Amissus puer ('Lost Boy')
by Sterling Kato
Summary: Although it will eventually contain 'romance' to some degree (nothing mushy) this is a little fan fiction that is more or less based on trust and the odd sense of friendship between Connor (Ratonhnhaké:ton) and a young Scottish woman named Elena Mayvil St. James. I started writing this before the game came out, and it was just for fun.
1. Chapter 1

Well... after much deliberation and biting my nails... I finally decided to upload the ACIII fan fiction I'd been working on since mid October.  
I wasn't sure how I felt about it to be honest. I have REALLY enjoyed writing it thus far and although I'm pretty sure it's not the best out there, I did try to make it so it wasn't some silly 'lovey dovey' romance novel kind of story.  
Although it DOES have a girl (oc) in it [Elena St. James] and there is a hint of subtle 'romance', it's not really about romance. It's more or less about friendship; an odd one at that. There's 10 chapters posted so far, and some are a bit long but I hope they're engaging none the less.  
I DID have to guess on a few things as far as Connor and his story went because although they do go over quite a bit of it in the game, what happened during his childhood/young teen years is up for grabs lol So I went with that... thinking that perhaps through his wandering off and 'hunting' he'd meet 'the unusual girl with the funny accent'.  
Ummmn... let's see, what else...  
OH! Please, be nice with the reviews (but be honest as well) I was hoping to get my friend who is an editor to review it and fix it up, but she was busy so I did it myself as best I could.  
Sorry if things run on forever, I tend to be very descriptive as a writer, but sometimes it can get 'too' descriptive XD

Elena St. James is Scottish, so she speaks with the Scots droll which I tried to translate into text (it was difficult haha!)

* * *

It had been years since either of them had seen one another, and by now in both of their minds it was sure that neither of them could possibly remember each other. But, fate is a strange animal; it has a wary course and a sense of humor.

Her name was Elena Mayvil St. James- 'Ellie' for short if he remembered correctly. She was an upstanding woman, polite, kind, but she possessed the tongue of a rattlesnake and her words had twice the sting.  
His name, Connor Kenway as the pale men called him, but his true name was one few could pronounce properly.  
He was a rebel to the British, a man to be marked and killed on sight, and right now he was in need of a hiding place. The red coated men were after him and for good reason. He'd just decapitated their commanding officer.  
The reason? He was an Assassin, and sided with the American men.

He'd taken the west paths through the evergreen forest. The snow that had fallen the night before was far less in depth there because the trees sheltered the ground and less snow made it through the thick needled canopy. The path led to a valley through which be made his way onward, snow reaching to his stomach in some places. Now he'd made it here to a small cottage in the middle of a clearing and oddly enough the cottage belonged to someone he'd met before- Elena.  
"I suppose you're wantin' a place t'hide from them soldiers that are chasin' ya, hm?" She asked him, her small but sharp voice echoed in the silence as locks of her shockingly red hair, which had been tied up in a neat bun, wafted in the icy wind.  
The distant sound of a horse's neigh and the clamoring of guns and men sent a small hint of urgency into the man's eyes and he looked back to the woman before him with a small nod.  
Elena looked away and forward, her hazel eyes casting a scanning glare out over the horizon before she looked back to the native man and sighed. Grabbing his hand she tugged him gently but also hastily. Without a word he obliged in silence, thankfully.  
The door closed with a slam as the wind blew against it and Connor couldn't help but jolt ever slightly. Loud noises weren't usually that terrifying.  
"Don't make yourself comfortable. You'll be out that door as soon as them Redcoats are gone past." Elena said swiftly and Connor smirked.  
He knew she meant what she said; he'd been pushed out of her house before. But back then he was just a boy and the circumstances were different; as was the reason for his being 'booted out'.  
Elena stood by the window taking a few moments to watch through the lace curtains for any signs of a pursuing party. Fortunately there was no sign just yet.  
"I am sorry for asking this of you, friend Elena." Connor said softly, trying to sound as convincing as possible, but in truth he was actually sorry.  
"Don't be apologizin'. You're doin' what you have t'survive against them monsters, I know." Elena said softly, she kept her gaze out the window as if refusing to acknowledge him fully.  
Just then she shifted forward to her small fingers gently lifted the delicate lace a few inches and she said "Ah, yes, there y'are." Her voice was almost enchanting in is cheerfulness and Connor could only assume she was talking about the horde of Redcoats that had come into view just beyond the cabin.  
Although it would have been a good idea to hide it became painfully obvious that there was in fact no place to hide in the small cabin. It was cozy and small, quaint and warm, but it was not meant to hide a man. Some begrudgingly Connor stood still for a moment before he made up his mind that although the offer was pleasant, he would have to leave. If he could not hide, he would have to run.  
As his made his way toward the window at the back of the cabin he heard a small sound of discontent and he turned his head slightly to acknowledge it, if only for a moment.  
"What do ya think you're doin'?" Elena asked, she'd now turned to fully face the man and Connor turned his head a bit further to reply.  
"I cannot put you in danger. This cabin looked bigger from the outside, but there is no place for me to hide. If those men come in here, they will kill not only me but you as well. I cannot risk it. I must leave." He turned back around and made the final few steps to the window and leaned to open it slowly.  
"Now just y'wait a minute there, boy. This little cabin may not be the biggest one out there, but she's got a few hiding places."  
"Why didn't you say that before?" Connor asked, his body leaning forward for a brief moment of slight annoyance.  
"Because, y'didn't ask. Come on, quickly." Elena replied and again her little hand grasped ahold of his and tugged him toward what looked like a door on the floor. Of course, a trap door! It was a cellar!  
Elena tugged the door open and Connor hoped down into the darkness. It was cold and slightly damp but it was a hiding place and it would work for now.  
"Now quiet, Britain's a'knockin' at m'door." Elena said as she closed the door softly. Connor could hear the knocking on the wooden door before he heard shuffling above his head. Elena had slid something over the door in the floor to hide it. Smart woman. He then listened as her footsteps led to the door and it opened. There was talking, no doubt the subject was him. If there was one good thing about the British soldiers, they were polite. Particularly to women, well, white women at least.  
A few moments passed before Connor heard the door close and although it seemed as though the coast was clear, he heard a man's voice again. There was a soldier, in the house!  
"Perfect." Connor said to himself as silently as he could. He crouched a bit lower to collect his body warmth. When he was on the move keeping warm was not a problem, but standing still in such a dark and damp place sent the odd chill through his body. His hands were now beginning to remember what it was like to feel cold instead of being numb. His feet, although shrouded in the warmth of animal hide boots were slowly soaking in the dampness below their soles as the muddy earth beneath them squelched grossly every time he moved the slightest.  
To keep his hands occupied he placed one on the Tomahawk in its sling running a thumb over the curved metal shape. He then set his hand on the pistol on his back. This wasn't merely insurance that if the man, who was now inside the cabin, opened that door, he could kill him, but also because he wanted to check that both were in working order. Withdrawing the pistol from its holster he fondled around for the pouch of lead ball barring shaped bullets, and also a small packet of black powder. He'd loaded this gun so many times before he could literally do it in the dark, but his hands were still chilled to the bone so doing anything with them was a chore. Without much choice he lifted them one at a time to his mouth, blowing on the fingertips to warm them, lessening the chilled numbness so they were useable again. When he was satisfied at their dexterity he went back to loading the pistol as silently as possible. His ears honed and listening to the conversation that was going on just above him. From the sound of it the man who'd no doubt invited himself into the cabin was attempting to beseech Elena for any information on Connor's whereabouts. And of course, if he knew anything at all about this feisty Scottish woman, he knew there was no way in creation she'd tell him anything. At least, he hoped she wouldn't.  
Once the pistol was loaded Connor gripped the gun tightly in his hand, his finger on the trigger. If he could time it right he could creep out of the cellar unnoticed and end the enemy soldier's life with a clean shot. The only problem was that he wasn't sure if there were any more soldiers still surrounding the cabin.


	2. Chapter 2

_'Always think ahead, Ratonhnhaké:ton' _his brain told him. It was one of the many lessons he'd been taught and learned from a young age; since he'd started becoming a hunter; an assassin. He's have to find a way to check if there were any soldiers nearby enough to hear a gunshot, and if so, how many. Scuttling and shifting his weight very slowly at first but then quickly, he moved through the area under the cabin. His hands outstretched to touch and feel for obstructions in his way before he hit them. He moved silently through the pitch blackness, swerving and moving through and around wooden posts and supports until he saw a small sliver of light ahead. A break in the wooded shell of the cabin's girth. Just what he needed.  
As he got closer the scent of fresh air taunted him and he breathed in deep to take it in. The smell of wet earth and rotting debris within this unlit prison was dreary and in all honesty he longed to be out in the open, where he could defend himself if need be. In here he was trapped, like a rabbit in a snare. Yes, he did have his weapons, but even when the wolf has his teeth and claws, when caged up he is as good as dead.  
Now able to peer out of the gap in the wood Connor looked around, listened, and even scented the wind. He used all his senses to hunt his prey, and red coated men were no different than deer at this point.  
The air smelled sweet, a storm was coming, more snow. There was also a hint of blood, no doubt a wounded man, but the scent was stale; the man was gone. He then used his eyes and ears, looking as far as he could through the gap to see if there was any glimpse of red or any sound of speaking, but to his relief there was only silence.  
_'Good._' Connor said to himself again and he glanced upward as if looking through the wooden floor and to the man standing above him. His fingers slithered around the body of the newly loaded pistol once more and withdrew it from its holster, but then a moment of hesitation.  
The gun would be a poor choice. Quick, effective, but loud. Even if there were no men around, it was not worth the risk. Replacing the pistol Connor lifted his arms to unhinge the handcrafted bow from around his torso. It was not the most modern of weapons but it was deadly. For decades his people used such weapons to kill a great many things; their fellow men included.  
It was silent and if used at close range, if aimed right there was no chance a man could survive a direct hit to the heart. Even a prize male buck could not survive such a thing, and their hide and heart were twice as thick.  
Withdrawing an arrow from the quiver on his back Connor loaded the bow, placing the notch of the arrow into the bowstring, his index finger holding the shaft just beyond the arrowhead in place as he once again moved through the darkness. By now he's learned the path through the cellar which made less noise. He could see the faint outline of a square shape above and he knew he'd made it to the cellar door. He knew there was no way he could raise from the crevice silently as there were no stairs to ascend, just a drop. He'd have to 'lift' himself up out of the hole which would take his hands and arms, both of which were currently occupied. So, he'd do the next best thing, he'd invite the British man to meet him.  
Lifting his bow just high enough to touch the wooden door above, he pushed it upward a few times making a loud 'knocking' noise against the wooden surface. This would surely be cause for concern and any soldier worth his salt would come investigate the sound. Just as suspected Connor heard footsteps approaching closer, but he could hear Elena's voice pleading to ignore the sound. He knew she was trying to protect him but he had a plan and he'd stick to it. He repeated the knocking, this time louder. There was no way the soldier would ignore such a racket, even with a lovely lady trying to tell him it was 'just the wind'.  
Connor listened as footsteps clamored to land still just above his head, the soldier now standing on the door. He knocked once more, the sound sending a thundering echo through the cellar. He pulled back the bowstring taunt and aimed upward as he heard the door begin to open. The light blared into his eyes but that did not stop his fingers from releasing the bowstring, sending the arrow at high speed upward where it buried itself deep into the invader's chest.  
It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust and Connor peered out of the cellar to see the familiar sight of a red coat falling to the ground where it landed with a sickening thud. The hit was direct but the man still moved; this one was resilient. No matter, Connor would make short work of ending his 'misery' as he pulled himself from the hole, nimbly into a crouch before standing up and walking over to the man on the floor. Lifting the tomahawk from its sling Connor knelt down, lifted his hand and struck the blow down. His aim was true and the blow swift, a moment later it was over.  
The man let out a gurgling sound of dying before his head slumped aside and his final breath was released. His eyes were open but there was no light within them now.  
Connor then looked up to see Elena. She was standing with her hands clasped over her mouth, staring at the dead man. There was a look of shock and empathy within her eyes and for a moment Connor regretted what he had just done. But that regret was short lived as soon as he saw the red coat and the cross that lay on the dead man's stilled chest.  
Connor stood up and made his way over and past Elena who did not look at him but instead looked away as if ashamed of him. There were no words spoken as Connor looked out the front window to secure the perimeter. He then walked back to stand over the dead man before leaning down to grasp a hold of under his arms to pull his body up. He couldn't leave this man lying in the middle of Lady Elena's home, it wasn't polite. As if killing a man in front of her was?  
Regardless, if anything he couldn't risk leaving behind evidence to lead Elena into trouble. She did not deserve such trouble.  
Connor dragged the man's body carefully through the cabin before laying the body down against a wall to allow him to open the back door.  
Elena had still not said a word but she had now begun to follow him, watching him inquisitively as he disposed of his 'kill'. Dragging the soldier's body out in to the snow, Connor looked for a place to put him that was far enough away from the cabin to avoid suspicion but close enough for him to keep an eye on the carcass. Animals here would eat anything left out dead, even the flesh of a man. Their presence could attract unwanted attention. Usually if a hunter wanted to keep wild animals from his prey he would leave some part of his scent behind to detour animals. In most cases it was cloth, but urine worked the best. Wild animals avoided 'marked' areas, it was an ingrained instinct. The only problem was Connor did not have to go, so he used the next best option, he tore a piece of cloth from his coat and laid it on the ground. It wasn't much of a 'presence' but it was good enough. If anything the presence of a cabin; human dwelling, so nearby would keep the beasts away for now.  
Turning back Connor looked to see the door remained open and the vision of wafting red hair accompanied by a pale skinned face in the doorway. He stood up and readied to turn and walk away. He had no business being in her home, he was dangerous to her. Not by choice but by occupation. He would sleep in the wilderness tonight, as he had many times before.  
"Hey boy, are y'lost!?" A voice called out through the silence and Connor stopped in his tracks and turned. He'd heard that question before. It was the same question a little red haired girl had asked him the first day they'd met in their youth. Back then, he was lost. Terribly lost.  
But now...?  
Connor smirked softly to himself. In truth he wasn't any less lost today than he was back then. He had a purpose now but he did not 'belong' anywhere. His home was gone, his family was gone. Just the thought of those memories were enough to wipe the smile from his face and return the cold to his bones, and his eyes. He turned around slowly only to find he was staring into Elena's startling eyes. She'd come out to meet him, her shoulder's draped in a delicate shawl of black yarn; it had a hood which barely covered her vivid red hair. The wind whipped past and through them both and he heard her shiver.


	3. Chapter 3

"Come inside boy, before y'catch you're death o'cold." She reached out and tugged his hand, pulling him with her as she walked through the snow back to the cabin, but Connor stood his ground and tried to free his hand as gently as possible. However, she did not release it, if anything her tiny little hand gripped it with a vice-like capacity and she tugged a bit harder before turning around to face him.  
"I will not put you in danger m'lady, I have troubled you enough. Thank you for your help, but I must go." At that Connor turned to continue walking away but he was pulled backward with a surprising amount of force and he whirled around to glare at the woman holding him back.  
"Oh no y'don't! Y'killed a man in my home, the least y'can do is come inside and let me feed ya! N'come on!" Elena pulled him with another tug but again Connor did not budge.  
"If y'worried about you bein' dangerous, I think I know about that. I knew you were dangerous that day I met ya on that bridge when we were wee ones! It's not goin' to work, that excuse. Y'comin' inside, and that's that!"  
Connor wanted nothing more than to pull himself away and just bolt but the moment he looked into her eyes he knew not only would that move be impolite, it would also be impossible.  
'_Fine, you win. I give in._' Connor said to himself, his flattened brow barely visible under the beaked point of his hood gave away his minor annoyance at her persistence. As she walked back toward the cabin, pulling him lazily behind, Elena quickened her pace. The faint memory of this moment; this same gesture being played out before echoed through Ratonhnhaké:ton's mind. He was a boy, scrawny and lost. She was a young girl, proud and fearless. She was taking him away from the streets of the town, away from the taunting and filth, into the wild valley where he could be free from despair. Or so he thought. She pulled him with the same gentle force now as she did then, only now she had a bit more 'power' to her pull. For such a small woman she sure had a lot of strength, and the personality to match. Connor couldn't help but smirk as he was reminded of that small and brief 'happy' moment from his childhood.  
Reality was slapped back into him the moment they stepped into the cabin. The smearing of blood on the floor from where the soldier he'd just shot dead lay previously, and the scent of a woman's comfort was all it took to remind him he was no longer a boy. He was a man, a killer, and assassin. Elena closed the door behind them and Connor stood still as stone as she made her way around him, stepping over but noting the bloody planks of wood below her feet as she moved down the passage way and into the living room of the cabin. She slipped the thick knitted shawl from her body revealing near naked shoulders and an elegant dress. She looked as though she was dress for a party or a ball even. Connor couldn't help but stare, his interests peaked; and not the kind that should be right now.  
"You were going somewhere tonight?" He asked softly as he stepped a few steps forward before stopping himself as she turned around to face him.  
"What was that?" She asked, her green eyes furrowed in slight confusion.  
Connor nodded to her attire, trying not to stare at her too long, keeping his eyes locked on hers.  
"Your dress, it's fancy. Not usually the kind women wear everyday unless you're rich."  
Elena looked herself over and then returned her gaze to his, she chucked as she replied.  
"I guess in some way m'heart knew you were comin' around then, eh?"  
Connor was confused but he accepted the sentiment with a small grin. After all it had been years since they'd seen each other. Well, since she's seen him. He'd seen her many times before when she was out about town, but he was usually looking out for someone else. He never dared to talk to her or get near her knowing the risk of getting her unintentionally involved with danger was too great. He'd been told to sever any ties to his youth the moment he became an Assassin. Friends were liability, loved ones collateral. Both could be used against you if your enemy knew of them. Not to mention they could also be a distraction.  
"Y'hungry?" Elena asked, breaking the silence and Connor shook his head. He wasn't hungry, at least not to the point where he'd eat more than a bird's helping of food. To do so when you're a guest is impolite. Another less learned over the years.  
"Oh come'on, y'have to be hungry enough to at least eat a biscuit, eh?" Elena moved forward, her body moving so swiftly over the floor that it appeared she was floating toward the cooker's nook. Connor watched as she pulled a tin from the cupboard and opened it, inside an array of odd looking shapes. Sweets.  
She pulled one out and placed it in her mouth and shoved the tin closer to him with a nod as she bit down and took a bit from the biscuit she had. Connor didn't want to be impolite, but it had been years since he'd had 'sweets' of any kind, spare for the random kind the other Colonial soldiers being with them. But those were nowhere near as fancy as these, nor did they taste or smell as nice. Figuring it was best to just grab whatever one was closest, Connor picked out a circular biscuit with a little red circle of gooey jam in the middle of it. Taking a bite he chewed slowly at first but the normally with a nod of his head.  
"Not too horrible."  
"Those are m'favorites too. Them and these-" Elena reached in and pulled another circular biscuit from the tin, this one sporting tiny crystals on it; sugar. Connor recognized that kind of biscuit, he'd had them before man times.  
Elena placed the sweet in his hand and took another bite of her own before placing the tin on a nearby table. She then sat down on the chair beside the fireplace which was barely smoldering due to being ignored while the 'British invasion' of the cabin was going on. Elena got up and knelt down to place some kindling on the dying embers before Connor spoke up.  
"Allow me, m'lady."  
Finishing the first biscuit Connor then gripped the second between his teeth before stepping toward the fireplace, kneeling down to work getting the flame restored. Elena stopped helping for a moment and watch him, her staring made him slightly uncomfortable but he tried not to show it as he continued his work.  
"Y'haven't changed a bit, Ratonhnhaké:ton." She said his name and he stopped, casting a side glance at her before going back to work on the fire.  
"Unfortunately you have no idea how wrong you are, m'lady." he replied truthfully as he watched a small but steady flame begin to flicker in place of embers and he teased it with more kindling until it was big enough for a few twigs to be placed on top of it.  
"I mean the kindness in y'heart, that's never changed. You were a kind boy and now, a kind man." She said softly and Connor lifted a hand to pull the biscuit from his mouth before looking over to her slowly.  
"There are some who would argue that notion, but still, it is nice to know someone who remembers who I once was." At that he looked at the biscuit and then saw how dirty his hand was. It was covered in dirt, mud, and blood. The simple joy of a sweet biscuit faded at the sight and he placed the biscuit on the table beside him before rubbing his hands together as if to try and wash them clean with the air.  
The fire was crunching and crinkling nicely and Connor could feel the air in the cabin warming.  
"There's a pail o'water by the mirror o'there. Feel free t'use it t'wash your face an' hands." Elena spoke up as she watched the man wringing his hands and Connor nodded and glanced to her with a nod of thanks before rising to his feet and walking across to the mirror. He poured the water from the white jug into the basin and dipped his hands into it, instantly staining the water with dirt and blood. As soon as he was done washing his hands he washed his face. He then turned to see Elena was now laying on a very comfortable looking long-chair near the fireplace, her body covered in the same knitted shawl she'd worn before. She looked contently at the warm fire and Connor watched her for a moment.  
It was times like this, times where a subtle hint of peace and tranquility could be seen or felt that he was reminded of just what he was fighting for. This small dose of peacefulness, this beautiful silence was the very reason he bloodied his hands every day, and it was for people like Lady Elena; who only wanted their freedoms and own lives that he would die for.  
He was too busy thinking to realize she was staring back at him. He red hair glowing vividly in the firelight, and her green eyes turned golden sage as the flames danced their light around the room.  
It was also in times like these that he was reminded of just how much he missed having the companionship of a good woman. He could have any bangtail, whore, and brothel girl he wanted, there was no denying that. However, he sought out more than just passions of the flesh, those were easy to cure and sustain. He desired a lifelong bond, a kindred spirit, a woman who would be his and only his for the rest of their lives.  
To think such a thing was possible for a man like him, for a man of his 'occupation' was foolish. Surely no woman would want to live her life in the fear that her husband -may never return to her again one day. No woman would want to wash to blood of a hundred men from her husband's brow every night he did return. Nor would she want to live her life in secret. Women were too social for that kind of life.  
No, he would not bring a woman into his life for that reason alone, to protect her - to keep her safe by not being with her at all.


	4. Chapter 4

NOTE: The _italics _in this chapter represent internal thought OR a flash back to youth/childhood.

* * *

Still, seeing the soft shimmering gaze of this woman before him brought those desires forth, their power strong. He had to try hard not to step forward and sit beside her to enjoy the firelight with her. He could not afford to get distracted. Or could he?  
'_It's only one night, Ratonhnhaké:ton! It has been years since you have seen this woman, don't make this night for naught! At least got talk to her?_'  
The voice in his head was getting persistent. Letting out a sigh he took a few steps forward and picked up the cover to the tin that held the biscuits. He lifted it, looked it over, and then placed it on the tin once again, closing it softly before he walked forward once more.  
There was just enough room for him to sit down on the long-chair near Elena's feet, but he did not take too much liberty in doing so. Instead he looked to her and then cleared his throat as if to ask her if it was alright for him to sit by her. She obliged with a small smile, shifting further up on the chair, making a bit more room for him. Then, as if to 'seal' the invitation she patted the cushion and placed a small pillow down for him as well before laying back down and watching the firelight.  
This wasn't the first time the two of them had shared a moment alone like this. Their relationship, if any, was a series of random encounters, usually unknown to anyone else but them. He could still remember sneaking into her room one night to give her a gift, a gift that oddly enough was now hanging on her mantle. It was a spiritual charm, to ward off evil and protect the bearer. He wanted to keep her safe even as a boy. Not only because was his nature but also because she had been kind of him when many others chose to exploit him, beat him, or insult him. Even if he was half their blood, his dark skin and clothes did not make for a convincing appearance amongst the white men.  
Back in their youth the two of them were friends, nothing more, nothing less. Now in the maturity their being together alone could and would be view differently. They were no longer a boy and a girl, they were a man and a woman. Uninvolved, unengaged, and unbetroth.  
Great care had to be taken in situations like this otherwise desires of the flesh might win out over sensibility and conscience.  
Lifting the bow from surrounding his torso once more, and undoing the straps that held the quiver and knife to him, Connor placed the items close by at the foot of the long-chair in case he'd need them. It was unlikely that any man or soldier would be prowling about at this hour, but you could never be too sure. Especially when you were someone like him.  
Leaning back against the cushions of the long-chair Connor couldn't help but sigh. It felt nice to sit on something that wasn't made exclusively out of wood or metal. The plush materials made his body warm and relaxed and his eyes closed for a moment before the opened upon hearing a small chuckle from the other side of the seat. He turned his head a saw Elena watching him, her face twisted into a grinning smile; she looked mischievous and silly.  
However, even now, with such a childlike expression she looked beautiful. Connor shook his mind free of the 'desires' again, looking away from her as he tugged the pointed end of his hood downward to hide his face, not sure if he was blushing or not. Either way, red cheeks were not 'manly' not to mention embarrassing.  
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the soft heckling beside him but it was difficult. Her laugh was intoxicating, it beckoned attention, if only a glance, and he had to work damn hard to avoid doing so. Suddenly he felt movement and soon he felt the presence of a body right beside him. He tried to ignore it, staying still, but his attention was peaked the moment a pair of hands tugged the back of his hood to pull it off. He pulled it back on, and it was pulled back off. He pulled it back on only to find it was not moving forward; she had a hold of it.  
"Hood stay's off. 'Tis m'house and I say keep it off, right?" Elena said sternly, but there was a presence of gentleness in her tone that made the whole ordeal seem less intrusive. He laid his hands down idly on his lap, his head and face now exposed. He didn't know why it felt so strange to allow her to see him; she'd seen him before. In fact, she probably knew more about him than anyone else at this point; even for as little time as they'd spent together in their youth. He focused his eyes toward the fireplace, watching the orange flames flicker and dance, but out of the corner of his vision he could see Elena laying back to where she'd been, her own hazel eyes watching the serenading firelight in silence. He let his mind wander and visions of his past came into view.

* * *

_He was a boy, barely 9 years old. He was running through a field alone, or so it seemed. He heard the laughter behind him and turned his head. Behind him be could see a small clutch of his friends running behind him until they caught up to him. Another boy, a childhood friend, now ran beside him laughing and speaking to him in their native tongue.  
They ran for a while, swooping over fallen logs, coursing over the uneven earth, flowing through the forest and field like the wind. He was too busy enjoying the freedom to realize the rest of the group had fallen back, including his friend who now called out to him from behind him, warning him to stop. He thought it was just part of the game, he would not stop, he would wind this race.  
Then suddenly the earth tipped up under his feet and he flopped over head over feet into the long grass. As he fell he heard an odd sound, like that of a wounded rabbit. A screeching sound, high pitched and loud. As soon as he fell he leaned up and looked around, expecting to see he'd fallen or stepped on some kind of furred creature but his gaze was met by a pair of bright green eyes and a pale face. Instantly he scuttled backward through the grass, shifting away from the stranger. He tried to get up but his legs were wobbly from the sudden fall just moments before.  
The stranger just watched him, their eyes filled with wonderment as the native boy scurried away as if she were a poisonous snake.  
"That hurt! Where were y'going so fast? Are y'lost, boy?"  
Ratonhnhaké:ton stopped still as the stranger spoke and he realized two things, she was a girl and she was not going to hurt him. Or so he hoped. Still, he barely understood the words she spoke. He'd grown far too used to speaking the tongue of his people, the Mohawk to remember the words of the white men. He did understand 'boy' and 'hurt'. He realized he must have tripped over her and hurt her, but he did not know what to do to apologize so he simply stared at her.  
In the few mere moments that then passed he took the time to study her face. She wasn't like the other white girls he has seen before, she was different. Her face was pale as snow and covered in what looked like small specks of red dirt. Her hair was a bright vivd orange, parts of it bleached out from too much sun, and her eyes...her eyes were evenly placed and the brightest green he'd ever seen before. She was a 'pretty' white girl, and he was not usually one to think such a thing. Perhaps it was how unusual she was that made her that way, that or good breeding. Either way, Ratonhnhaké:ton remained silent and watched her.  
"D'ya talk, boy? My name is Elena, Elena Mayvil St. James, what's yours?"  
Again the girl spoke in the tongue of white men and Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head to let her know he barely understood. However, he did remember what the word 'name' meant- identify.  
Ratonhnhaké:ton spoke carefully, his body still tight like a coiled spring in the presence of this girl, but he told her his name.  
"Ratonhnhaké:ton." He pointed to his chest once before placing his hand back on the ground to brace himself. He knew there was little to no way this little girl could pronounce his name properly, but she wanted to know it.  
Of course she repeated him as best she could, murdering his name. Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn't help but chuckle at her attempted folly. A moment later it because obvious that Elena was not pleased at his humor as she gave a scoff and her pretty green eyes narrowed. She did not look threatening, even now with her face red with embarrassment and her green eyes furrowed; she resembled and angry bear cub. Then Ratonhnhaké:ton remembered that even if they were not dangerous, bear cubs were rarely far from their mother and his muscles tensed. This girl would have parents no doubt, perhaps a father. A man with a gun, a killing machine. He'd seen men of his village return dead with bullet wounds from the white man's guns. Ratonhnhaké:ton began to shift his body back again, squirming through the tall grass away from the girl again and she watched him, her angry face now turned into a confused and inquisitive expression.  
"What are y'afraid of? I'm not gonna hurt ya." She spoke softly and began to crawl after him. Ratonhnhaké:ton kept shifting back until he was able to gain his footing and he shot up and broke into a run. His legs were still feeble but he ignored it and kept running. He had to get away from the white territory, he was not allowed there. He's gone too far and now he'd been seen.  
He turned his head and to his dismay he saw the girl had taken to following him. She was oddly close behind him despite wearing a dress and stiff shoes. Her bright hair flowed behind her as she kept up pace, as their eyes met Ratonhnhaké:ton smirked, if only for a moment this felt like a game- 'catch me if you can'.  
It was a dangerous game, a deadly game even. If they went too far in either direction, it would not bode well. Ratonhnhaké:ton kept up his pace, every now and again glancing behind him to see Elena was keeping up with him. They made it through the open field and back into the wooded forest where Ratonhnhaké:ton had come from not too long before. They kept running, blissfully unaware or careless that they were not supposed to be doing so.  
Suddenly Ratonhnhaké:ton heard the little girl let out another cry and he skidded to a halt and turned around to see what happened. To his surprised he saw the little girl was now in the grasp of one of the men from his tribe. He spoke sternly and Ratonhnhaké:ton kept quiet.  
"What are you doing, Ratonhnhaké:ton?Who is this?"  
Ratonhnhaké:ton did not answer for a moment. He would have to choose his lie well, surely he could not say he was playing with this white girl, it would mean he was disobeying the rules he'd been told since he could remember. Of course, he couldn't say she was chasing him either, it would make matters worse for her and she would not understand. His people were kind, but they did not accept intrusion well, in fact they were willing to kill any man or woman that tread too closely to their territory boding ill intent, and chasing one of their own would be seen as such. Even if she was just a girl.  
"Answer!" the man spoke again, his voice elevated and Ratonhnhaké:ton could tell he was growing impatient.  
Without thinking he spoke, praying to the spirits that his words would make sense.  
"I was helping her get out and away from our lands. I did not want her to be hurt, so I said I'd show her the way out of the forest."  
Thankfully what he'd just said was not a complete lie. He did not want her to be hurt and they would have eventually made it out of the forest, had they not been stopped.  
The large Mohawk man stood for a moment, glancing between Ratonhnhaké:ton and Elena before let go of her roughly.  
"See to it she is out of our lands and tell her to stay out, or she will not return home one day."  
Ratonhnhaké:ton knew the words were not just a threat, they were a promise. He nodded quickly before running up and grasping ahold of Elena's hand, pulling her roughly as if he were taking her from the man without permission. The two of them bolted off away from the man through the woods. Ratonhnhaké:ton did not look back, but he could sense that Elena was.  
"Hurry!" He spoke in his native tongue which he knew she would not understand, but the tug he gave on her hand was rough enough to break her from her stare and she looked at him and then ahead as she was dragged behind him while they ran onward.  
"Where' re we goin'?" she asked, and Ratonhnhaké:ton heard the word 'where'. He did not answer verbally but pointed forward toward an opening through the trees just ahead. It lead out into another field, this one a shimmering golden color composed of wheatgrass. The grass was tall and soft, but also sharp and painful if you did not take care while running through it. The cuts it left were often called 'ghost wounds' because you could not see them but you could feel them all over.  
As soon as they made it through out into the open, Ratonhnhaké:ton let go of Elena's hand. The momentum of the skidding halt was enough to send her tumbling forward into the tall grass with a yelp, her dark green dress puffed up in the air as she fell.  
"Hey! What are 'ydoin'?!" She yelled instantly after she fell, and Ratonhnhaké:ton turned to run away once more, but he could hear a sound that distracted him yet again. She was crying.  
Had he thrown her too hard? Had she been scratched by the billowing grass already?  
Regardless of what happened Ratonhnhaké:ton turned back around and looked down at her. He could see her looking over her hands, they were shaking, and her face was red with anger and wet with tears. She sniffed loudly and Ratonhnhaké:ton knelt down carefully and looked her over with a tilt of his head.  
"M'hands hurt." She muttered, and for good reason. Ratonhnhaké:ton looked just to her left to see she'd just fallen into a stinging nettle bush. He watched as she reached out her hands to him to show him. They were already turning red and sore. He gingerly reached out and grabbed them with his own and looked them over. Even now with being reddened and covered in a thin layer of dirt they were soft, small, and very pale. Ratonhnhaké:ton turned them over and looked at the top of them seeing the snow white skin and then he saw her forearms the speckles of brown covering the skin there. He reached up in interest and trailed a finger over the spots as if to wipe them off, but they did not budge. Then he remembered he had them as well, on his face. Not nearly as many, nor were they as visible, but he had them too.  
"M'daddy calls 'em 'Angel kisses'." Elena spoke and Ratonhnhaké:ton looked up, his fingers retracted from her skin the instant she spoke and he looked away in slight embarrassment.  
"Y'have 'em too, I can see 'em." She spoke again and this time it was he who felt fingers on his cheeks, trailing over them gently, poking the small faint spots that were visible on his tanned skin. He knew he should push her away but he simply turned his face slightly and let her prod him for a moment before pulling his head away.  
"Ah!" Elena let out a yelp and withdrew her hand as if bitten and she stuck a finger into her mouth. Ratonhnhaké:ton watched for a moment and then remembered the nettle.  
"Come." He said softly to her in his native tongue, tugging on her arm for her to follow him. He hoped she would understand and thankfully she did as she got up with him and followed him.  
They walked in silence until they reached a small drop in the land, below a small creek of fresh water.  
"Wash and cool your hands, it will feel nice. Trust me." He again spoke in his native tongue but used body language to show what he meant. Pointing to her hand and then down to the creek before rubbing his own hands together. Luckily again she got the hint and he watch her nod before she attempted to climb down the steep decline. The dirt was still soft and she appeared to be having trouble keeping herself steady. Ratonhnhaké:ton moved forward quickly as she fell to catch her, unfortunately he was too slow and she slid down the dirt hill to the bottom with a squeaking yelp. He half expected to hear her cry again but to his surprise she simply got up, brushed her dress off, and walked over to the babbling brook to put her hands in the water.  
Following her lead, if only with a bit more agility and grace, Ratonhnhaké:ton slid down the soft dirt to meet her in the small crevice. He moved upstream, knelt down, and cupped a handful of the clean water for a drink. He then turned and watched Elena for a moment again, seeing her rubbing her hand in the cool water, the contentment on her face showed she was enjoying the comfort and chill on the stings from the nettle.  
Ratonhnhaké:ton's attention was peaked the moment he heard a few twigs snap and his gaze shot up to the other side of the crevice. The sounds did not come from human feet, it came from an animal. Nimbly leaping to the other side of the creek he climbed up the incline easily with silence and saw his suspicions were right; a strong and healthy doe was picking through the wheatgrass, her head buried for a few moments before she looked up; her ears and eyes scanning as she chewed the few morsels she could grab while head down. If he'd had his bow Ratonhnhaké:ton could have easily killed the magnificent animal, it would make food for weeks for his people; meat, hide, and precious bones would be used. However, he did not have any weapon so for now; this beautiful beast would live to see another day.  
He then heard the fumbling grace of Elena climbing up behind him and he reached down behind him to hold her up while she climbed until she was beside him.  
"Oh m'word, it's beautiful!" she said loudly and Ratonhnhaké:ton shushed her watched the doe look up instantly from her feeding, her wide dark eyes scanning the horizon and her massive ears tilting and turning to pick up any sound. He knew that the deer could see them, she could no doubt hear them breathing, but she did not fear them. She knew young were usually not a threat. It was predators with weapons she was on the lookout for. Still, Elena's voice must have caused some discontent because the doe trotted off through the grass, back into the shelter of nearby wood and out of sight.  
Ratonhnhaké:ton sighed in both annoyance and calm as he watched the deer disappear from view. He then looked to his side to see Elena there looking right back at him, her pale face and vivid eyes boring into his own dark features. _


	5. Chapter 5

The sudden crash of a window blowing open shook Connor from his restful slumber and he bolted to stand up, looking around for a moment before seeing the billowing curtains ahead. Snow and fearsome wind blew in through the now open entrance and it dropped the temperature quickly. He quickly treaded over and closed the window doors, locking them tightly before turning around to see where he was. He was still in Lady Elena's home, but she was not around. From the looks of it she'd gone to sleep in her own bed and left him with the long-chair by the fireplace which was still flickering warmly, making up for the degrees lost only moments before. Catching his breath Connor walked back over to the long-chair and sat down before laying the long way. In the subtle darkness he could see the sky was turning a dark blue; dawn was approaching. As he laid back he could smell the scent of her on the pillow and it filled him with a small sense of comfort. He was reminded of just how unpleasant it would be outside right now with wind rattling the windows, biting to get back into the tiny dwelling. He was fortunate that he had a place to stay tonight. He was too far from camp and home to be able to go back soon enough, and from the sound of it the storm that he'd predicted was about to blow into full swing. Regardless, he would leave when the sun rose; even if it was not visible. He had to return home eventually.  
Still, it was nice to lie on a comfortable 'bed', warmed by a fireplace, in the presence of kind company even if the company wasn't nearby. Which led him to wonder where exactly she was. He knew he shouldn't invade but it wouldn't hurt to know where she was in the case he'd need to find her. In case someone else invaded the cabin.  
Getting up slowly Connor walked through the room toward a door. It was cracked open and he could see a chair inside as well as what appeared to be the foot board of a bed. He walked to the door and peered through the opening silently. Just as suspected there she was, her flaming red hair give away that she was sleeping peacefully within her bed and Connor sighed softly. Good, at least she was safe and he knew where to find her if need be. Hopefully he wouldn't have to wake her. He glanced back through the door at her once more before turning around to walk back toward the long-chair where he laid back down again. Eyes still open he stared at the ceiling in silence. Visions of days since passed and days yet to come played about in his mind.  
The wind rattled the windows once more; pushing against them voraciously trying to get back in, Connor eyed the window dangerously as if to stop it from opening. That was not a pleasant way to wake up after being nice and warm all night. Still, he was in fact awake now and although he knew now would be a good time to leave, something made him stay. Perhaps the knowledge that even with his skills and knowhow, making any way through the incoming storm would prove useless. The wind showed signs this was going to be a bad one, a storm to bring the thick snows back to the land. It was mid-Winter after all and so far the snows had been mild compared to years past.  
Again the wind battered the window, beating it mercilessly trying to break through but with no avail. Connor's attention was caught when he heard movement from inside the room across the way, Elena was stirring. The door swung open slowly and Elena came walking out wrapped in a thick blanket. Her hair was down and mussed its curliness even more evident now that it wasn't tied up in its usual bun. Her eyes, although tired, were still wide and bright. She stepped onto the cold wooden floor with bare feet for a moment before stepping to a pair of oddly familiar looking shoes. She must have bought them from a trader. Regardless, they would be warm against the frigidly chilled floor.  
Connor watched as she made her way toward the long-chair where she slid down onto it, ignoring that he was still laying on it. She nestled as far up against the pillow as she could, again ignoring that his arm was still under it. He shifted uncomfortably and shunted his body up and back to sit up properly. It appeared she was either not awake enough to notice him or too cold to care. Even with the fire going the air was still rather chilled. Connor did not notice because was still fully garbed in leather hide, cloth, and furs. Elena, on the other hand, was in a night gown and a blanket. No doubt she was freezing.  
Getting up quickly Connor threw a few small logs onto the smoldering embers and a few minutes later the fire was crackling healthily once more.  
"I should go soon; they will wonder where I've gone." Connor spoke up, breaking the silence, and Elena looked up to him lazily.  
"Hm? Oh, yes. O'course. But y'not goin' out there until the wind die down a bit, it's galin' somethin' fierce. You'll catch y'death out there now."  
Her smooth voice accompanied by that enchanting droll made her point clear and oddly pleasant to hear. Connor had to agree, the wind was fierce and he looked to see the snow had begun to fall. Standing up he walked up to the window and looked out through the lace curtains to see large fat flakes billowing down, coating everything in a nice new clean coat of white. The sky was now a faint shade of lavender purple- dawn had arrived but the sun was drowned out by the thick clouds of the storm. It was too hostile to leave now, he would have to wait until later when the winds were less and the snow was not so thick.  
In a small way it was a blessing in disguise, this storm, as it would give Connor time to run over what missions he'd accomplished and what he still yet had to do. He'd done so much lately that the days and deaths were blurring together; he was getting sloppy. Not good. He would have to reevaluate and reestablish a bit of order back into his regimen.  
"_A sloppy assassin is a dead assassin_._" _as he'd been told before and although it seemed far too simple it was the simplicity that made it chillingly true. Leaning back away from the window he settled himself against the wall, folding his arms across his broad chest as he stared idly forward to gather his thoughts. However, the scenery was distracting. It seethed nothing less than 'comfort' making his eyelids heavy and his body too relaxed. He would need to get some air to clear his head, even if that air was cold and sharp. In fact, that might be exactly what he'd need right now.  
"Where y'think you're goin'?" Elena's voice asked as Connor slipped a hand around the door's handle. He did not turn to answer but instead just barely glanced back over his shoulder.  
"I need some air; it is too warm in here."  
At that he pulled the door open instantly feeling the swelling wind that had been fighting the window all morning rush into his face, the sting of cold snowflakes stabbing against the exposed skin of his face. He breathed in deep and took in the fresh air as best he could without choking on how eagerly it rushed into his lungs. He then remembered the soldier he'd killed last night and he set a course to find him once again and make sure the body was still where he'd put it.  
Walking through the fresh snow was a chore and already it reached to his knees. It was soft and fluffy, slippery and tricky to navigate, but he made his way regardless. Luckily the winds were in his favor and they'd swept a lot of the snow away from the ground the farther back he went behind the cabin. He peered around the corner cautiously looking for any signs of life, human or animal. It was a slim chance that anyone or anything would be out in a storm like this but he knew not every beast saw this kind of weather as a blockade. Some saw it as opportunity to pack in a well needed feast, finding the dead young, sick, weak, and old that could not withstand the chilling storms winds. Connor focused his eyes through the dense falling snow to see a flicker of red wafting through a hill of snow. Then he was able to make out a hand, a foot, and barely a face. The body was still where he'd left it, intact and untouched. Good. When the storm died down a bit more he would drag the carcass further away from Lady Elena's cabin so nothing or no one would find it here and cause her problems.  
A strong gust of wind, strong enough to push him forward slightly, broke against his back causing him to latch onto the corner of the cabin to stop from falling forward. This storm was a bad one, but he'd seen worse.  
Still, it was not a good idea to stay out in weather like this for too long, frostbite was deadly and the worst part was half the time you did not know you had it until it was too late. Lifting his hands to his mouth he blew into them to warm them up enough to make them useable again before turning around to walk back toward the front of the cabin. To his annoyance the snow had somehow turned the opposite direction and was now aimed directly at his face, stinging his eyes with tiny needles that even when they melted they stung. Pushing his hand to cover his eyes for a moment before he pulled his hood over his head, Connor trudged onward until he grabbed a hold of the front steps railing. By now the wind was so fierce it was making moving against it incredibly difficult, it also made it hard to breathe. Not good. If anyone was out in this storm, without some kind of shelter there was a good chance they would be dead.  
As much as he hated the notion of reopened the cabin door to let this kind of cold in there was little he could do to avoid it. What he could do was try to enter the dwelling as quickly as possible to reduce how much frigid air got in. Shunting his body forward onto the front steps he stepped up the three steps, grasped the door handle, shouldered the door and slid himself through the door as quickly as he could before pushing it shut, the voracious wind nipping at his heels to get in. The door jarred shut with a startling slam, yet another unavoidable action. The wind was so strong Connor had to use body weight to close the door against it. He turned around to see Elena was no longer on the long-chair but was standing in the kitchen nook, heating what appeared to be a pot for tea. Something about these white people, they enjoyed their teas. Connor never developed much taste for it. To him it tasted like the herbal remedies he was forced to drink as a child, none of which tasted good and usually all of which made him worse.  
"Y'made a mess of m'floor twice now." Elena said from the kitchen nook, her attention still focused on what she was doing but her voice was directed at him. Connor looked down at the floor to see he was in fact shedding water and melting snow into small puddles on the floor at his feet. There was nothing he could honestly do other than remove his boots, but that was not an option. Besides, with having blood on the other half, a little water on this end might not be so bad. Still, Connor had enough respect to know when he was being scolded, and after all this was her home. Shifting his body aside he now stood on a rug that was designed for the purpose of soaking up water from wet shoes. Ones that were usually removed, of course, but this time the rug made an exception and soaked up the wet mess voraciously.  
"Tea?" Elena's voice caught his attention again and Connor shook his head to decline the offer but before he could speak his answer he saw two cups on the tray that she now carried toward the table in the middle of the room. Obviously his answer would prove invalid even if he said 'no'.  
"Sit down an' make y'self at home. This storms not goin' anywhere any time soon, I assure y'that." She said softly, her gaze wandering upward as it looking at the clouds beyond the ceiling. Connor couldn't stop himself and he too looked up even though he knew all he'd see was a wood clad surface.  
It was a difficult prospect; to sit and 'relax'. Connor hadn't done so in quite a long time, and in many ways he did not even know where to begin in actually doing it. Still, he would try to seem relaxed enough as to not arouse any suspicions from Lady Elena. The last thing he wanted was to be rude, but he also did not want to make her angry or upset. After all, she had been kind enough to let him hide out in her home, even after killing a man in front of her bedroom door.


	6. Chapter 6

The wind howled angrily for what seemed like hours as the two of them sat in silence. Lady Elena sipping her tea softly and Connor leaning back against the wall keeping a sharp eye out the window every now and then to monitor the weather as well as check for any 'unwelcome guests' that may wander out in this storm.  
It would be highly unlikely that the British soldiers would risk tracking in this kind of weather, but the Colonial soldiers were tougher. Many of them knew these lands almost as well as the natives, in fact very many learned from the natives on ways to keep warm and survive. However, for anyone to place his life into the hands of fate in a blizzard such as this would surely be called mad. That was if they ever returned.  
The windows rattled as the gusting gales battered them mercilessly, snow and frost now fogging the windows of the small cottage. So much so that Connor had to keep placing his warm hands on the glass to clear it. Of course, he knew this action could be part of the reason for the frost; it was too late to stop now. He needed to see outside.  
After a little while Connor realized just how quiet everything truly was. Not even the fireplace crackled with life within the cottage. The only sounds came from outside; from the voracious storm.  
Turning to look around he saw that Lady Elena had her eyes closed and was now fast asleep once again, her pale white cheek pressed against the side of her teacup as if she'd fallen asleep in mid sip. For a moment Connor stood just staring, part of him wondering how she could possibly be sleeping like that, but then again he'd woken up and been asked the same thing by others after he'd fallen asleep in a tree or on a rock.  
_"When you're tired it doesn't matter what's under your head, so long as it's not a rattlesnake. And even then, if I were too tired to notice..."  
_Connor let a small grin cover his face as he thought of this small joke he'd heard a while back being said by one of the men he'd met while fighting along the Colonials. They were strange but hardy people, tough and their expanse of humor knew no bounds it seemed. His grin only came about because this joke was not necessarily an exaggeration.  
When he realized he was staring too long Connor shook himself out of his daze and turned his head to glance out the window once more and immediately noticed the glass had frosted over once more. Thawing it out with a few seconds of warmth from his hand, he peered out to see the same thing he'd seen before; snow, wind, and more snow.  
There was little to no concept of 'time' when one was out in the middle of nowhere like this. Especially without the sun as a guide for it. In a storm like this night and day could fade in and out like one was the other; no difference, so it was hard to tell how long this storm had been going on. Best guess was nearly three full hours. Surely it would stall soon, or at least calm enough for him to move on.  
Taking another side glance at the dozing woman behind him he saw her head had now flopped to the side, yet she was still holding the teacup. It was a silly sight and if he had a mind for the humor Connor would have most likely laughed rather rudely, but he possessed no humor and no desire to be that big of an idiot. He knew he should most likely just ignore her and keep biding his time to leave but he couldn't help but stare. Watching her was a lot more entertaining than this snow storm that was for sure. She must still be exhausted.  
Connor himself was starting to feel the soft hands of sleepiness creeping on. His slumber last night had not done him any justice, his eyes burned and his gut stung. A sure sign he'd not rested enough. However, over the years he'd become accustomed to such feelings and learned to cast the pain aside and replace it with more important matters.  
The only problem with now was there were no 'important matters' to attend to, no mission to complete; everything was on hold on account of this blasted storm. And as such, apparently his mind thought this was a proper time to feel drawn out and collapsible. The feeling of it hit him like a bag of bricks and his eyes drooped for a moment, and it felt good to close them.

"No! Stay awake!" Connor said aloud to himself before his eyes shot open and he blinked them a few times to ensure he could blink without losing control of his eyelids again. Although his eyelids no longer dropped they still felt heavy and his eyes burned even more, having tasted the sensation of closing it seemed they were going to fight to do it again.  
Falling asleep would be a bad idea, even with this storm ruling the outside world inhospitable for the time being that did not mean someone wouldn't possibly be lurking around.  
It wasn't the idea that they were hunting him that caused concern. Even a hunter knows when to save his own skins before hunting his quarry. It was the fact that if someone was wandering about in this storm and they saw this cottage, there would be no doubt they would pursue it and invade it for shelter and warmth. Possibly causing 'problems' in the process. More likely when it was found out this cabin was owned by a young woman.  
Of course, they did not know Elena Mayvil St. James. She was small but feisty and there was not a doubt in his mind that if anyone did chance upon this cabin and try to conquer it they'd have one heck of a fight on their hands with the good Lady alone. Still, she'd been kind enough to allow him to remain in the cabin through this storm so the least he could do was try to 'protect' it and her as best he could. It was not an entitled job but it was the proper thing to do- 'protect the lady of the house'. He may look like what some would consider a 'savage' but he did have manners and he did believe in being a gentleman when occasion calls for it.  
His attention was scattered when he heard stirring coming from behind him and he turned once more to see Lady Elena shifting her weight in her chair, looking dazed and rather un-amused at herself.  
"How long was I asleep?" she asked in a hazed and husky voice, rubbing her eyes and then her neck before getting up slowly.  
"Not very long, I did not want to wake you as you seemed at peace in your rest." Connor replied and he watched as Elena placed her teacup and saucer on a countertop before yawning and pulling a shawl over her shoulders with an audible shiver.  
"Blimey, it's cold in'ere! Aren't y'cold?" She asked as she strode quickly over to the fire place and tossed a couple logs onto the smoldering embers on the hearth.  
"No." Connor replied shortly, perhaps with a little less gentleness than should have been, but the answer was simple. He was not cold; in fact he was rather warm. The leather and thick fabrics he donned were designed to keep out the cold and utilized body heat as a natural 'radiator'.  
His answer must have suited well enough because as soon as he said it Lady Elena turned and looked him over before giving a nod and a grin. She must have noticed how heavily dressed he actually was now that she was awake and not reeling in shock.  
"If y'warm, y'can take off some of them clothes, put them on the table. They'll be safe there."  
She nodded toward the table where she'd been sitting and sleeping at beforehand.  
As tempting as the idea was to relieve a bit of his clothes, Connor shook his head in obligation. He couldn't afford to waste time putting them back on when the time came to leave.  
He heard Elena sigh heavily before he felt a tug on his sleeve, he turned to see her looking about as if trying to figure out how to undo it.  
"I won't let ya stand about in m'house in y'coat. N'off with it! At least the coat, alright? Doesn't take too long t'put back on any way."  
She did have a point. The coat was the least troublesome part of his wardrobe. Still, he was unsure of letting it off if only for a short time.  
However, as with many of his objections before now his insecurities were unaccomplished when he felt the coat sliding off his shoulders, which slumped in subtle defeat.  
"There y'go! Now, s'that much better, I think? Y'don't look as much in a hurry to leave!" Elena said with a loud chuckle before folding the coat neatly- very neatly, and placed it buttons side up on the tabletop. Connor watched as she folded it, she seemed to actually know what she was doing as she mimicked the same actions and motions he'd seen many soldiers in high ranks do if and when they laid up their colors.  
He felt oddly exposed without his coat and hood but there was little need to worry at this point. No one could see him anyway, not through the snow and caked on frost over the windows. if anything he would be a blur to the untrained eye and that's if they had a telescope or staring directly into the window. Either way, he'd see them first.

"Now, stop standin' around and sit down. Y'makin' m'nervous! Are y'hungry? Wait, don't answer that... I don't care if y'are or not, y'are eatin' today." Elena said as she stood tall, pointed to the chair in front of her with a nod to guide him to it and then turned around to stride into the kitchen with a purpose. Connor was actually hungry this time around but he did not say so aloud. Instead he did as he was asked and sat down at the table quietly.  
It was like being back in a 'classroom' he'd been in once where a woman slapped his knuckles with a switch every time he placed them in the wrong spot on a table top. He felt the same sense of humiliation, but this time it was different because this time he knew the treatment was not to 'improve' upon him but rather to help him. That and it was obvious that Lady Elena was getting annoyed with his actions, so he obliged if only to humor her and also to spare himself getting yelled at.  
Their meal was simple but it did the job of curbing hunger pains for the time being. Bread with stew was a good staple diet as it was easy to make and carry, so Connor was used to such a meal. The only difference from this meal and any other he'd had in the last month was that this one actually tasted like something decent.  
When their meal was over Elena cleared the table and once again brought out the tin of sweets, but Connor did not take anything time. He wasn't interested in sweets but was getting anxious. The storm had now lasted nearly the whole day and so far it had no letup in the slightest. Storms like this usually blew over rather quickly after dropping a massive amount of snow, ice, and rain. However this one seemed to be stalled directly over the area.  
His anxiety was obvious as he got up and walked over to peer out the window once more, now seeing that the snow had blown into large drifts in various heights, but there were areas where the snow appeared to be less than a foot deep. If he was ambitious enough he could make a move and head back to home but the wind was still blowing something fierce and it was blowing the snow and ice about into large swirling snow spouts. Getting caught out in this storm would not only be dangerous, but deadly.  
He knew the land well enough, but he also knew the land was ever changing, and with the weight of heavy snow the ground was weakened, rock bridges gave out, and what looked like solid ice could often be less than 4 inches thick. Snow storms had a way of playing tricks on the mind and body, you could freeze to death in one and not even notice. He'd seen many men who'd lost fingers and toes from the cold, and sometimes even whole limbs had to be amputated from frost bite.  
So, regardless of his anxiety Connor realized than he would have to remain in the cabin for a while longer. Surely the storm would let up during the night, and he'd be awake to see and then leave when it did.  
Usually when there was nothing to do the men at the base camps would play games. Card games, board games, and sometimes even word games. It was fun and occupied time.  
Lady Elena didn't seem to find the idea entertaining at all and instead resorted to sitting in the long-chair by the fire again. Only this time she had a book in her hands.  
Connor looked to the fire to see it was smoldering nicely, the flame small but blue and warm. He then looked back to Lady Elena who had put on a small pair of spectacles, now looking thoroughly engrossed into her tiny book.  
Although he wasn't normally one to be nosing into other people's business, Connor couldn't help but try and get a look at the book's cover to see the title. No doubt it would be a romantic tale of knights and ladies of courtly halls; women loved such books.  
He never did much reading in his youth since he barely understood written words, but in his teenage years he discovered a love for fictional stories, war stories, and stories depicting heroes fighting against foes to defend those they loved and their homes. In a way, it was those tales of heroism that fueled his own desires for retribution and revenge on those who destroyed his love and killed the ones he loved.  
As soon as he was able to see Connor realized the book cover was blank, which only peaked his curiosity more as he was now interested in what she was reading. Regardless of its genre, a good book was a good book, and that's just how it is. He'd read all kinds of books, every one he'd been able to get a hold of, even books beyond his preferences.  
Casually walking around toward the back of the long-chair, Connor took a few glances to inside the book and what he saw surprised him. He didn't see the usual 'typed' words one often sees in published books. The words in this book were hand written.  
He also saw that even though there was writing, the main subject was the pictures on the pages. Beautiful hand painted images of flowers, birds, trees, and all other assorted wildlife.  
Creeks, brooks, forested canopies, golden valleys, and glittering lakes grounded by majestic mountains.  
"Did you paint all of these?" Connor asked, not noticing he was now leaning down to stare at the images closer, his eyes wide in wonderment and awe.  
"Aye, I did. You like them?" Elena replied with a small smile before lifting the book toward him so he could see better saying, "Here, take a closer look if y'like?"  
Connor reached out gingerly and took the book into his hands, leaning back a bit more to catch the light of a nearby candle which illuminated the pictures in brilliance.  
"There's more." Elena said as she got up from the long-chair and sprinted over to meet him, standing beside him to look at the book herself. She reached up and flipped the page, revealing more colorful miniature scenes and detailed drawings.  
"This is amazing, you have great talent, m'lady" Connor said as he ran a hand over the page, feeling the smooth surface ripple under his touch.  
"Nah, I just do it for fun, y'know? Keeps m'level minded to paint and draw. 'Specially in times like this, wars goin'bout and gunfire echoin' on the wind."  
Elena's voice was soft but somber and Connor couldn't help but sigh. The reality of what was happening to his homeland not only to his people but others like Lady Elena; it was a hard medicine to swallow. It tasted bitter and foul like soot and ash on the tongue, the thought of it making him frown. However, he refocused on the next page which held an oddly familiar sight. It was a direct replica of the little creek he'd taken Elena to the day they met. The water bright blue surrounded by earthy browns and peeking greens. The thought of that memory warmed his ill temper and he couldn't help but grin.  
"Y'remember then, don't ya?" Elena asked with a soft grin as she looked from the page to him and then back. Connor nodded slowly in reply, still marveling at the details she'd manage to capture with paint and pencil.  
"It almost make m'wonder what happened, why we fell apart like we did? I mean, o'course knowin' m'father wouldn't let m'have anythin' t'do with a boy like you; o'your 'breed', but makes m'wonder why that stopped us?" Elena as aloud, her voice thoughtful and pensive as she gazed at the book pages before her.  
Connor's attention was lifted beyond the pages and he turned his head to look down at her, his brow flattened with slight confusion and interest.  
Elena must have noticed his gaze as she looked up to meet it, the spectacles flickering the hues around the room faintly before she lifted a hand to take them off without looking away.  
"Tis a cryin' shame; man's prejudices 'gainst his fellow men. Tis even more a shame children don't see it the same way, eh? To us skin color and heritage don't matter. To us, friend tis a friend, no matter where he comes from." After speaking Elena sighed deeply and then split the gaze between them looking down to her spectacles, fiddling them in her fingers before looking to the fire.  
Connor nodded slowly and opened his mouth as if to answer, but no words came forth. All he could do was nod with a sigh. It was true. He had lost many friends in his youth, some from death and famine, and others from the prejudice and pride of their family. He was a halfblooded native boy and even if he was half white-man's blood his skin did not reflect it and so others often did not see it. Only those that took the time to ask or gaze a little closer did.  
It was true that children did not see as adults did their desire for friendship and companionship won over the importance of appearances alone. If a boy was willing to play with another boy, even if they never played again, they were 'friends' for that day.  
The day he met Elena was not only a good day but it was also a day he realized it was not only the white men who held prejudices, but his own people. Because Elena was a little white girl she was seen immediately as unwanted, even if she had just as much right to be in the forest as they did. She was a harmless child, but her father was a man; a white man; possibly with a gun. To see or know his little girl was in the presence of red skinned native Indians could have possibly made him upset, even angry. Angry enough to take up a gun and bring a horde of angry white men with him into the natives' land to punish them for their crimes. Even if there was no crime.


	7. Chapter 7

NOTE: The _italics _in this chapter represent internal thought OR a flash back to youth/childhood.

* * *

_Ratonhnhaké:ton would wander onto the St. James' lands, idly walking around. He knew it was dangerous and against the set rules of his tribe- more specifically his mother, but he did it anyway. Although admittedly there were days where he'd have to lie to himself for a reason as to why he was on St. James land, telling himself it was because hunting there was easy. Due to their growing various crops that many animals fed upon, hunting rabbit, squirrel, and even deer was much easier than normal.  
However, no matter how much he told himself the same lies to convince himself it was ok, in the back of his mind Ratonhnhaké:ton knew full well it wasn't.  
The real reason as to why he'd risk such a thing was far simple; a girl. Although he knew there was no way he'd be able to court her, he still couldn't help trying to catch a glimpse of her through a window or, if he was lucky, while she was sitting on the front porch of the St. James' estate. Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen many white women on his short and often 'illegal' expeditions out skirting the towns and villages nearby, but this one in particular seemed to have hold on him. Perhaps it was because she was the first girl to ever not run away from him, or perhaps it was because she was also the only white girl he'd ever spoken to; even if it wasn't in English. For whatever the reason, Ratonhnhaké:ton kept coming back onto St. James's property every once and a while because of her. Today was one of those 'once and a while' times and Ratonhnhaké:ton spent half the morning seeking a decent way to scout into the St. James' land unnoticed. Last time he'd come he'd been sloppy; careless in his approach which nearly cost him. A worker in the field caught sight of him as he walked upright through the wheat-grass can called out an alarm. A few moments later a horde of tall lanky dark men came running into the field carrying pitch forks and even guns. They suspected the young native man was on the land to steal the crops. The truth was Ratonhnhaké:ton's people had no taste or need for white man's crop. They hunted and ate their own, stealing; especially from the white men was not an option. Even if they were starving, a native man would rather starve and die than steal. Perhaps it sounded nobler than it really was, but the truth of it was that stealing meant death, so stealing to eat would only mean death would come later rather than sooner.  
Regardless, Ratonhnhaké:ton would choose his route well this time, no careless wanderings or aimless hiking.  
The sun rose above the land, it was almost midday. Ratonhnhaké:ton climbed down the tall elder tree he'd been perched in while scouting his route onto the St. James's estate lands. When his feet reached the ground he checked around him, his eyes sharp and alert. Despite the fact the worker men often tilled the back fields of cotton plants at this time, Ratonhnhaké:ton had no desire to get careless and caught. A young man sneaking was bad enough, but a young native boy was twice as bad. He would have to be very careful.  
Taking ginger steps, placing his footing properly to make as little noise as possible, Ratonhnhaké:ton crept closer toward the border of the wooded outcrop; closer onto St. James property. He likened the experience to hunting- you had to be quiet, cautious, alert, and ready to run the moment your prey fled away or toward you. He kept his eyes on the bright white homestead just in the distance; his target. The moment he heard a noise or saw a shifting movement out of the corner of his eye, he ducked low and studied for a moment before moving on.  
'All this for a girl? Ratonhnhaké:ton you're an idiot!' he said to himself as he kept moving forward at a snail's pace. The snapping sound of a twig and Ratonhnhaké:ton dropped low into a crouch looking around. Normally he wouldn't have been stirred as much but the weight of that snap sounded like the footfall of something larger than a rabbit or squirrel. Then he heard it- the sound of speaking voices. A moment after Ratonhnhaké:ton was securely perched up in a tree, overlooking the area and soon seeing a group of men; dark men, walking just a few paces from where he'd been moments before. They were carrying a dead deer, no doubt one they'd shot and killed. The lifeless beast's head lulled as they carried it by its legs, their voices carrying on the wind in mournful tones, singing as they walked on. Regardless of why they'd done it or for what purpose it served, the sounds of their song were saddening, even to one who did not understand the lyrics. Ratonhnhaké:ton was sure it was their own native speak for the dark men were not like the white men, not only in appearance but also livelihood. Although they wore white man's clothes and spoke his tongue, the dark men were natives just like Ratonhnhaké:ton and his people, only the lands which they roamed were far far away.  
As the men made their way onward Ratonhnhaké:ton remarked the direction they were heading, the opposite direction he was meant to go. Good.  
No sooner than the men left his sights past the trees did Ratonhnhaké:ton climb down from his perch and moved onward once again, this time keeping an extra sharp lookout for anyone or anything oncoming.  
Finally at the wooden outcrop's edge, Ratonhnhaké:ton looked out and through the wheatgrass field, it had grown taller but still only reached to his waist. He would have to crouch or crawl to get through it unnoticed. Dropping down to a crouching stance he slipped his way into the tall grass, instantly smelling the sweet scent of the drying vegetation. It was an oddly calming perfume and it put his mind at just enough ease to move onward. Stalking through the grass Ratonhnhaké:ton heard the sounds of something moving up ahead and quickly but carefully readied his bow with an arrow in case it was something useful, like a rabbit or another prey item. The sound shifted aside and within moments the sound disappeared.  
"Damn." Ratonhnhaké:ton said aloud to himself, but he kept his weapon at the ready, stepping onward through the tall grasses, keeping his eyes set upon the faint white flashes of the St. James house in the distance.  
Ratonhnhaké:ton looked forward to his right to see there was an area of wild land densely sheltered by trees and shrubbery and he made his way toward it. He vaguely remembered this plot of the land but still, it had been a while since he'd come here, so no doubt this area had grown since and thus was far more noticeable. He shifted into the hidden alcove of bushes and trees and watched. Luckily from this spot not only could he get a clear view of the house but he was also out of plain sight. Putting his bow away he peered through the bush before him and focused on every window of the St. James home, a moment later he caught sight of his quarry.  
Lady Elena sat daintily on the front porch of the house reading a book. Ratonhnhaké:ton watched as she looked around for a moment, closing her eyes and resting her head against the back of the seat in which she sat before resuming reading. She had grown even prettier than he remembered; her skin pale as fallen snow, her hair golden red and tied up into a neat but curly bun; strands of it wafting in the soft breeze. Her pale gray-green eyes moving from side to side slowly as she read through the pages of her book. She wore a pale blue dress, simple in fashion of no doubt far more comfortable than the restraining corset bodices the other girls wore. Ratonhnhaké:ton often wondered how anyone could wear something that looked so painful; even for beauty. He didn't think they looked very pretty all bound up, of course his taste in girls and women differed from that of a white man's, no doubt.  
While he was concentrated on watching the lady before him, Ratonhnhaké:ton also kept part of his concentration on the area surrounding him. If he got too distracted he wouldn't notice if someone found him. A moment or two passed and Ratonhnhaké:ton watched as Elena got up from her seat and walked toward the front of the porch, looking around as if looking for something or someone. Ratonhnhaké:ton tucked himself farther behind to bushes to avoid being seen even though he knew there was no way she could see him. A breeze flew in from the west and Elena closed her eyes and let it flow past her, her golden red hair waving softly on the wind which held a subtle chill to announce the oncoming Autumn not far off.  
To Ratonhnhaké:ton and his people autumn meant easier hunting as all the animal wildlife was out and foraging or hunting more than usual due to the abundance of food as well as the onset of winter looming. A lot of the animals here went into burrows, caves, or dens to sleep the winter's cold away while others remained active during the cold winter months. Those that did stay active were a staple source of food for all native peoples on these lands. Although wars were rarely fought now between tribes; not since the white men came and occupied every tribes' chief's mind, battles and fights for territory were fought. Every tribe wanted or needed to obtain enough land and prey territory they could to ensure survival for their people. This usually mean every tribe had to obtain at least one hundred man miles of free roam territory to secure enough food and hunting to sustain the tribe.  
However, as the white men encroached on the wild lands territories became smaller and smaller leaving tribes with less and less room to hunt and live. Progression and advancement for the white man were all he seemed to desire. Their plantations and land grabbing seemed to expand daily and their invasions of native land and territory was becoming more and more frequent. Many tribes had succumbed to the temptation of 'civilized living' and the promise of no more 'problems' or 'trouble surviving'. The thought of how easily they'd gone under made the hair on Ratonhnhaké:ton's neck bristle. His people were strong and defiant, sturdy and proud. They would never give in to the white man's temptations, they knew where their allegiances lay; with their land and families. Not in some stuffy townhouse surrounded by all measure of comfort, all the while conforming to the standards of an invasive species. No, they would not bow. Still, it was hard not hard for Ratonhnhaké:ton to imagine the horrors the white men could bring to his people as he'd seen it with his own eyes years ago; experienced it firsthand even. The men invaded their homes, threatening him, his family, his livelihood. They called them 'savages' and 'animals'; "_Filthy and unfit to live, even in squalor_" they said. They'd mistaken the powerful chants of praise to the ancestors as dumbfounded wailings of damaged minds, and the empowering war dances that gave strength and courage to young hunters to the insanity calls of wild imbeciles. It seemed the white man made fun of and despised everything about his people; their faces, their lives, their clothes, even their hair. Nothing was sacred to them and for that Ratonhnhaké:ton had no desire to get closer to them at this point in his life. He feared if he did, chances were he'd make a mess of things by killing someone for their arrogance or ignorance.  
Elena now stood just beyond the porch. She'd gotten courageous today, venturing out from the safety of the porch and onto the large well-kept front lawn. Ratonhnhaké:ton watched her carefully as she approached the small patch of wild land he currently called shelter and for a moment he wondered why, of all places, she chose to walk toward this one. Then he remembered what someone had once said to him; 'the mouse will walk toward the cat not even knowing what danger he is inviting upon him'. Up until now that quote had never made sense, but seeing Elena coming directly for him where he crouched, that quote seemed to mirror exactly what was happening. Although instinct told him to arm himself and stand against the invasion of his hiding place, Ratonhnhaké:ton knew better than to take up arms against and unarmed person, particularly an unarmed woman. Not to mention the obvious fact that it was not she who was rightfully invading upon him. He was on her family's land after all. if anyone was the invading party, it was him.  
Instead of taking up his bow or knife, Ratonhnhaké:ton slowly crept backward to make his way out of the wooded alcove. He kept his eyes forward to watch Elena as she got closer and closer and he realized that for a moment he may not make it out of sight before she made it into the wood. He would have to find a place to hide, or at least a better place to hide. Quickly looking around him Ratonhnhaké:ton was so busy looking for a place to hide that he failed to notice the large tall black man standing just a few yards behind him. Ratonhnhaké:ton backed right into him and yelped in surprise as the back of his leather skin shirt was yanked upward roughly and a moment later he was on his feet, held tight in the grip of a massive and strong black hand.  
"_What you doin' here, boy! Bes' not be comin' to pick up no free food._" the man spoke broken English but it was fairly easy to understand. Still, Ratonhnhaké:ton pretended to play dumb and shook his head and struggled to free himself from the man's vice-like grip, but to no avail. The man had hands as big as Ratonhnhaké:ton's head and they had the grip of a Cottonmouth viper; the sting of one too! Ratonhnhaké:ton wriggled and struggled until he heard the snapping of twigs and looked up to see the pale and pretty face of Lady Elena. He hoped that for some reason she'd take pity on him and tell this man to release him, but the moment she saw the situation Elena stopped but did not speak. She just stared for a second or two before tilting her head, her brow furrowing in confusion and interest.  
"_Noah, what have you got there? A boy_?"  
Finally she spoke and Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, even if it was premature. The black man, whose name was now known as Noah, shook Ratonhnhaké:ton roughly saying "_Yes m'am, found him wanderin' just now. I suspect he was lookin' to steal somethin'._"  
Ratonhnhaké:ton scowled visually before looking between the two of them, his eyes silently pleading to Elena to see the truth that he wasn't there to steal anything.  
She must have had the power to read minds because after a moment of looking at Ratonhnhaké:ton, Elena addressed Noah with a calm and soft voice.  
"_Come now, Noah, these people have no need for our food. They hunt on their own. I'm sure the poor lad just wandered too far from his own lands and made it here. Are y'lost, boy?_"  
Ratonhnhaké:ton tried very hard to suppress a grin from appearing, she'd recognized him! Something about the words '_are you lost, boy_' seemed to say it subliminally. Ratonhnhaké:ton pretended once again that for a moment he was dumb and looked at her blankly before he felt his body jerk forward and back as Noah shook him roughly once more.  
"_Did you hear the lady, boy? She ask'd you a question!_" Noah's tone was just as rough as his shaking, and even though Ratonhnhaké:ton knew full well what had been said, he still pretended to be too stupid to understand.  
"_Ain't no use talkin' to them Lady 'Ellie m'am, they's dumber than a jackass and twice as stubborn._" Noah said as Ratonhnhaké:ton played the dumb card further. He was hoping that if he stayed dumb they'd give up and let him go. Unfortunately he didn't equate for how stubborn Elena could be to get answers to unasked questions.  
"_And what d'you suggest, Noah? If y'can't talk to 'em they'll never learn, n'will they?_"  
Ratonhnhaké:ton watched between them as they spoke, understanding every single word, and since he was stuck in Noah's grip, he had little choice otherwise.  
"_When we disobey, we get beat m'am. Teaches us not to do it no more. I say let me lash him a few times, and he'll learn real good to stay of St. James land._"  
Elena stood for a moment looking as though she was seriously evaluating this answer, and Ratonhnhaké:ton's brow furrowed and his dark eyes narrowed. She couldn't seriously be debating on whether or not to let Noah beat the stuffing out of him! She wouldn't! Or would she..?  
Ratonhnhaké:ton came to realize it had been a long time since they'd met and with time everything and anything can change, even people's hearts. So the sweet and innocent little girl he'd met years before in the wheat grass field, although still beautiful as ever, could have turned just as hostile and apathetic as her kin. Still, Ratonhnhaké:ton held a hope that this was not the case, and thankfully his hope was rewarded not long after he thought on the hope.  
"_No, let 'im go, Noah. He's no slave. To beat him would o'ly cause troublin's we don't need. Let 'im go_."  
Ratonhnhaké:ton let out a deep sight of obvious relief as he heard this and his eyes turned soft in a silent thanks which he hoped Elena would notice. A moment later he felt the grip on his shirt collar release and a moment later from that he bolted away from them as fast as his legs could carry him. He felt like a deer that had been caught for fun and released, his regained freedom, although only shortly revoked, felt amazing and he ran onward back toward his home to tell his friends what had happened. _


	8. Chapter 8

Leaning back with the book of painted pictures in his hands, Connor studied the painting of the small river before him before he turned the page and there it was, in all its glory, St. James manor. Well, a painting of it anyway. He recognized the large columns of pearly white, its fancy exterior decor, and even the small front porch where he'd seen Lady Elena sit on while reading.  
"I miss it sometimes, m'home. Tis a cryin' shame it's been reduced to nothin' but a memory now. You'd o'loved t'see it again. M'father fixed it up real nice, nothin' too fancy but t'was loveleh!"  
Connor couldn't stop the grin from crossing his mouth or the chuckle from escaping his lips, and Elena looked at him in confusion.  
"What ar'ya laughin' at?" She asked, her tone slightly offended as if it was her.  
"Nothing." Connor replied flatly, the grin and chuckle instantly vanished the moment she spoke.  
"Y'lyin! Com'on now, it's the first time y'laughed since y'got here, and I intend to find out what 'tis y'laughing about." Elena said in a calmer tone and Connor could feel her gaze burning into him but he kept his mouth shut. Fact was, he didn't really know what made him grin and laugh, his best guess was the way Elena spoke. It was broken but proper, an odd paradox mix if ever any. However there was no way he was going to tell her that.  
Luckily the wind from the storm rattled the window causing a loud 'bang!' to ring out through the cabin and both Connor and Elena jumped, Elena letting out a yelp as she did so. Connor instantly put the book down and shifted to the window to look out of it. The wind may have done it but the sound still reminded him of a rifle shot, and he had to be sure it wasn't.  
Peering out of the window Connor saw that the storm, although still blowing through, had begun to slow down. The snow fell in small flakes now and it was easier to see for some distance. '_Now would be a good time to leave_', he thought to himself and he turned to Elena before turning to the direction where his coat and items were. He strode over to them and placed a hand on the leather and fabric clan garments before reaching down to pick it up.  
"I should leave." Connor spoke in a flat but soft tone as he slid the coat onto his body with ease and then began to secure it on and around his body. He instantly felt the warmth of the leather and thick fabrics engulf him and the scent of old blood and sweat welcomed him back into a world he'd forgotten about, if only for a few hours.  
As soon as he was sure his garments were secure and comfortably fitted, he lifted his bow and loped it over his head, the body against his back and the string across his chest. The arrows in his quiver shivered with a rattle as he shifted his weight, feeling the 'power' and 'courage' these robes gave him as soon as he put them on. He felt 'whole' again, like himself.  
Connor turned to see Elena standing right behind him and he backed up a step to turn around fully. He then lifted his hands to replace the well fitted hood over his head, the front coming to a distinctive 'point' which sheltered his eyes and shadowed his face. A moment later he watched as Elena stepped back, her eyes scanning as if to admire him in a new light, her head slightly tilted. Again he replied with nothing but silence and an almost blank stare.  
"I suppose this'll be it then, eh? Y'leavin'?" She asked in an almost sarcastic tone and Connor simply nodded. He'd already been gone too long and no doubt, even with this storm still blowing through the area someone was looking for him. As to the nature of the reason anyone would be looking for him, he couldn't say, but it had been nearly 24 hours since he'd last showed his face to any of his allies. If he didn't give them a visual soon chances were they'd assume he'd been done in either by a redcoat or this storm. He hoped they'd be smart enough to realize who they were dealing with and that neither was an option, but he knew a lot of the men found him and his presence among their ranks 'offensive', even if they dared not show it outright. The nasty glares and wrinkled noses made it more than obvious.  
Still, despite their ill tempers and racism, those men were his allies for the most part. They stood for what he stood for; freedom. Their values were as close to his as possible without being exactly the same, and so no matter how much jeering and sneering they did he respected them well enough to mind the gap of their world and his. He often chose to leave well enough alone and by-gones be by-gones.  
"Can I ask y'somethin' Ratonhnhaké:ton?" Elena asked, and Connor's attention was immediately reverted back to her the moment he heard his real name spoken. It had been a while since he'd heard it and in al honestly it was beginning to sound more and more foreign each time he did.  
"Of course, what?"  
His reply was perhaps less courteous than he'd of liked but he never was one for softly spoken words, he was a more 'get to the point, and fast' kind of personality.  
"Do y'think this war is gonna end?"  
Elena's question seemed to be the same as it had been before and Connor let out a sigh.  
Of course the war was going to end, what kind of question was that?  
Still he waited a moment to reply and luckily in that time Elena sprouted a new inquiry.  
"Will things ever go back to the way they were before all this happened? When ev'ry man were equal to one another despite where they came from and who they knew?"  
Connor could feel his mouth opening to answer but no words came forth. His lips remained parted for a brief moment before they closed and his head shook as his shoulders shrugged.  
It was brutal and utter honesty. He had no idea if things would ever go back to the way they were, but he was sure that something had changed. As to what extent and how far, he was unsure but he knew some things would never be the same ever again.  
"I can't say the extent of how far things have fallen m'lady, but what I can say is nothing will ever be the same. Not anymore, not after all that has happened."  
It was perhaps the longest reply he'd given thus far but it was again brutally honest. It wasn't a sugar sweetened answer to make someone feel good about losing, it wasn't a bandage or pacifier to calm the mind. It was truth, something Connor knew a lot about. Or so he hoped.  
"I figured as much. Still, y'can't help but hope. After all, without hope what else is there?"  
Elena's words rang out with a somberly resonating hum amid the silence of the cabin.  
Connor couldn't agree more with this statement.  
He'd spent years living his life seeking retribution and revenge upon those that stole his life from him, but he never gave up hope that one day he'd see the end of their tyranny and reign. He knew that there was a chance those who'd destroyed his home, ravaged their land, and took the lives of innocents would not fall from grace during his lifetime, maybe not in the lifetime of those came after him. But he also knew that if he did not fight to take them down now what little hope he held for the future would vanish and would be lost on the careless.  
Sure it was easier to let it go; revoke reason for madness and give into the tyranny. It was easier to just lay belly up like a loyal dog, lapping up the feeble 'treats' of freedom the oppressors would give every once and a while. Yes, it would be so much easier to not care... but it was far too difficult to imagine a world where such things were allowed to happen.  
Connor didn't fight to avenge anymore, he fought to protect. He watched men, his friends, bleed and die terrible deaths of agony and pain but he did not mourn them. He commended them, for each one of them had died for what they believed in, for what they wanted. Freedom. Some of them only gained it in death but they gave more strength to those who still lived on, reminding them that although it's easier to give up and give in, there's a reason to fight against it. There was a reason to live- the future. For their children, their children's children, and their children. To keep a cycle of unbroken freedom and prosperity for those who came after the blood soaked earth was washed clean. For those whose ancestors were only memories and pictures. This war was not fought for self-gratification, perhaps for some but for most it was fought for something that meant more than any precious metal, gem, or stone.  
No, he did not know how far the damage dug into life as they knew it or how far it would continue to fester. For all he knew the scars of this war would keep growing forever.  
But that did not bother him. He knew his job, his purpose for being here. Something kept him alive that day when the rest of his people, his home, and mother died. In truth it was a spirit, yes, but he liked to believe his life was not spared just to retrieve a sacred item to secure a distant not yet born relative. There was another reason, and this was it. To be the voice for those who could not speak, to listen to the voices of reason and reality, and to fight for those who couldn't fight.

"Are y'alright, Connor?" Again Elena's voice broke him from his thoughtful memoirs and he looked up to see the beautiful young woman looking at him with an expression reading confusion and concern. For a brief moment he allowed himself to soak in the sight of someone caring for him enough to bear such an expression. He nodded slowly before closing his eyes to take in a breath before concentrating his mind on something else. He would need to plot a way through this storm, and he'd have to keep his wits about him the whole way. Just because men dared not wander out in a blizzard did not mean other assorted animals didn't. Bears and wolves in particular would be out, no doubt scavenging for sick of elderly prey animals that had perished in the worst of it all. With any luck Connor would be able to avoid them but he knew the odds were against him. He knew these lands very well but he did not know everything. It would be difficult to read tracks in the snow or sent anything on the icy wind, so he'd have to be extra careful.  
He moved forward to peek out the window, midday had passed and the sky was growing dark already. He then focused on seeing just how far the snows had built up and he noticed that there was a path of shallower snow just in front of the doorway path. The exact way he'd come in not but a day before. The same day he'd felled a redcoat scout in Lady Elena's back hall.  
His mind instantly snapped back to that night and he made a growling groan as he reminded himself of the corpse that still lay just beyond Lady Elena's woodshed.  
No doubt the body would be buried and possibly frozen solid as a salmon. Being frozen meant the scent was hidden from scavengers but it also meant the body would be difficult to dispose of or hide, and he couldn't just leave it there for when spring came the body would surely leave a nasty stain on Lady Elena's lawn. Not to mention any lingering redcoats that saw the decomposing red clad body would invade and possibly cause trouble for the poor woman. Even if the dead soldier on her lawn wasn't her fault.  
Although he wasn't thrilled at the reminder he had a body to dispose of Connor kept his temper calmed. He'd made the mess so he would clean it up, there was no avoiding it and whining about having to do it wouldn't make it happen nor make it go away. Perhaps he'd gotten too used to killing on a battle field or in plain sight? Either way he'd have to take care of the 'garbage' before he left.  
However, as luck would have it the moment he made up his mind to leave was the moment the storm decided to bring in its second wind and the wind howled and battered the windows once more. Connor let out a rough sigh before he peered out the window to see the heavy snows had return as well as snow lightning which flickered through the sky before a deep rumble erupted directly after. His brow flattened and his temper rose a bit higher as he watched the renewed storm blew in with full force. He'd missed what little window he'd had by plotting for too long. If he'd of simply left he'd be halfway home by now.  
'_No, if you'd of left when you first said you'd be out there in this storm freezing and wet_'  
It was hard to argue with his own mind as it was right. Even if he'd left sooner there was no way he'd of made it far enough to avoid the second batch of this storm. He didn't even know how far the storm extended or if it was worse beyond where he was now. Still, upon realizing it was now very possible he'd be holed up for another night without commune with his fellow men Connor was not thrilled, to say the least of it. Even if the company with him was favorable, far less ornery, and no doubt less smelly or malcontent than if he'd made it home or back to camp.  
"Well, that settles it then, y'stayin' another night?" Elena asked sweetly and Connor made sure to keep his face to the window as he rolled his eyes and grinned.  
"Seems like I don't have much of a choice. This storm is not over and I will not leave too soon and risk being caught out in it."  
He spoke his reply as he turned to face her and he watched Elena's smug face sink to a soft smile before she nodded slowly.  
"Smart move. I'll put the kettle on then. Seems like another long n'cold night t'be had."  
Connor sighed softly in agreement before he began to remove his coat, neatly folding the garment and it's attachments once more. He put his arm guards, with the hidden blades which were razor sharp and kept clean for easy and silent kills, on top of the leather and cloth coat before placing his bow and quiver beside it all. Again he felt exposed, naked even, without his robes and weapons, but he reminded himself once more that it wasn't the weapons and wears that make a man feel who he is. It was the man inside the clothes who wielded the weapons that did. There was no need to feel shame or unease when not in them. Still, it was hard to avoid keeping them on.  
Connor stepped away from the neatly folded and hung items, in his mind thinking that if he did so it would make it easier for his mind to concentrate on something else. And, for the most part it worked. Being further away from them made it easier to avoid looking at them and so Connor turned his attention to Lady Elena as she fiddled about in the kitchen. Rattling pans of cast iron and plates, cups, and utensils made of tin and silver made for interesting music as she prepared their evening meal. Soon the air was filled with a pleasant smell of cooking and for a brief time Connor was brought back to the realization that although there was a war going on, this was what life was supposed to be like. When a man worked hard he'd come home to a good woman who loved him and she'd prepare a meal for him out that love and understanding that he worked hard for her. To keep her safe and warm, to ensure life was good if not better than she'd had before. Sure, Lady Elena was not his wife and sure they held no relation other than partial acquaintances but the principle behind it was the same; kindness and understanding.


	9. Chapter 9

_Lady Elena didn't have much family since her father passed away. She'd never known her mother and although she'd once had a brother, he died from scarlet fever at age five.  
When he died Mr. St. James left the whole estate to his daughter; his only heiress, in hopes that she would carry on the family business of wheat crops and cotton. However, when the war began the land was overrun with soldiers of both factions and soon the fields where golden wheatgrass and fluffy balls of cotton once flourish grew barren and arid, seemingly never to grow anything again. The St. James homestead lost value and although it pained her to have to do it, Lady Elena sold the plot of land for pennies to a British 'prospector' who planned to make it into a courthouse for 'local affairs'. In other words 'war efforts and meetings'. It killed her to know her family home was either destroyed to build a new British stronghold or kept intact and made into one, but there was no way she could keep up with it in its current condition. What little inheritance she had was given away to pay off the land taxes and by the time she had done that she'd watched all the workhands leave with their heads hung low. Many of them were black men that her father, although not a sentimental man by any means, had taken pity on and hired to upkeep the land and crops. Her father was a hardworking man by nature, being brought up in Scotland. Although they weren't necessarily farmers Mr. St. James saw value in the crops the 'New world' provided. Cotton was useful for making clothes, always in demand, and wheat was used for bread and all other assorted food items. It seemed these two plants were to always be in demand; surplus crops. While he was alive the St. James land flourished. Learning business ethics through reading and talking to business men, Mr. St. James came to be a very successful but fair man, knowledgeable in his trade. The only problem was he never taught any of those skills to his daughter, perhaps thinking he'd live forever. Either way, Elena was left with a gigantic homestead and even larger payment plan. Without the knowledge on how to run things properly and successfully the business went under, even when she tried to employ the help of the workers to run things. The war only helped put an already dying beast out of its misery as it was the final straw to break the business apart. When the business began to owe more money than it was bringing in with its crops, it was time to shut it down and realize defeat. Elena sold the homestead while she was still able to make enough money to buy somewhere of her own. That was when she bought her new cottage. It was not any place spectacular or vivacious nor was it pretty to look at. It was small and quaint and quite a few miles from town but for some reason that made it a bit more appealing. Or at least that's what Elena kept telling herself every day for the first few months she lived there before she finally settled into the quiet and solitary lifestyle she lived now. There was the rare moment when she would see her neighbors from two miles down the valley road as they strode by in their carriage to go into town, or the occasional solicitor that came to post papers or posters written about the British loyalist or colonial loyalist actions, failures, or successes. Most of the time Elena merely skimmed the articles before throwing them on the fire. She cared not for the war or it's succession. She knew it was only a matter of time before it came to her doorstep and one day it did in the form of a young native man. Clad in colonial colors with a white hood embossed with an eagle, this young man seemed desperate for a place to hide away from the red clad soldiers chasing him. His hands were dirty and stained with blood, no doubt the blood of a man he'd just killed, and his eyes although dark and mysterious, pleaded in silence for sanctuary and understanding. Whether or not her reading of his intentions or reason were true she was unsure. What she was sure of was that she would not let him down. Now, here he sat in her cabin; her home, while she cooked him dinner and made him feel welcome. Oh fate, what a funny thing you are.  
_ For a moment Elena sat wondering about if his people would do the same if the roles were reversed. She could remember the day when she and Ratonhnhaké:ton had met some years ago. They were young, naive, and full of curiosity of one another. She'd never seen anyone like him. Well, she had but only in books and those people were always half naked and wore feathers in their long unkempt hair as they danced around fires hooting and hollering like animals in heat. This boy was nothing like them. Sure, he wore the skins of animals instead of fine cotton made shirt and trousers, but he did not appear dirtier than the average young boy. In fact, he seemed cleaner and more well-kept than most of the young white boys she'd seen. He was also kinder. Most of the white boys she met were mean to her, pulling her hair, spitting in front of her and shoving her to walk in it, or throwing frogs or mud at her while laughing. The lady maids of the St. James house often said boys hurt the girls they like but Elena could not believe such a joke. How much sense did it make to hurt or humiliate a girl and think she'd feel utterly in love with you afterward? Even now in her older age Elena's neck hairs bristled whenever she thought of the stupid and silly things the little boys did to her. Even now, she still harbored a fear of frogs after finding huge slimy one in her lunch pail one afternoon and she ran home crying. However, for all her embarrassment Elena tried to not let it get to her. Boys were stupid and as time went on, the more parties and gatherings she went to with her father, she came to realize than most men weren't any smarter. In fact it seemed when it came to matters of women many of them never grew up or tried to grow up too much. Neither of which was desirable, unless you were a woman of lesser constitution who was lured in easily by wealth and power. Many of her friends had grown up and married men who were utter monstrosities merely because they were rich and well-to-do. She tried to feel sorry for them but she couldn't when she saw them walking about in fancy dresses, fake smiles upon their faces. All while the caked on make-up hid bruises and cuts from their husbands' drunken fits of rage the night before. No, she could not feel sorry for anyone who foolishly walked into a lion's den expecting not to get hurt. They were more than welcome to be 'happy' in their own stupid ways, but Elena was happy being alone, at least for now, or rather up until now.  
Having Ratonhnhaké:ton- or 'Connor' as he now called himself, in her home made her realize just how lonely she actually was. It had been months since she'd had a visit from anyone and although she'd kept herself busy during those months it now all became apparently clear that she was lonesome. She missed having someone to cook for and cater to. She missed being able to converse with someone other than herself; a feat of which was much of a relief since every time she did talk to herself she felt mad as a hatter for it. Most of all, she missed the company of another human being.  
Regardless of the thoughts that swam through her mind, Elena kept on working to prepare a simple meal of soup once more. It wasn't nearly as hearty as last night's brew but she was already low on rations before Connor showed up. Still, tonight was a special occasion and regardless of how much she'd pay for it later, she would risk sparing the portions of meat and vegetables in favor of putting a good meal inside him. Chances were he'd lived off of horrible food made by meagerly trained military cooks, which specialized in everything slathered in grease or fat. However, he was a young man; an active man from the looks up his physique, which meant the horrible food had little effect on him externally. Some men often gained something of a 'belly' from eating too much bad cooking, but Connor seemed as fit and tight as a drum. Still, a thick and hearty stew would do him a world of good over a bowl of gruel. She's also spare little expense with the loaf of bread she had stowed away in the cabinet. It was a bit stale but had yet to be cut into, the crust would be nice and hard, great for dipping in a warm soup. She also had a bit of butter as well, not much, but just enough to share between them.  
And of course, last but not least, the last bit of tea, but not just any tea, Jasmine tea. A rare delicacy she'd gotten from a friend who posted it to her from the orient. She'd only had a few cups of it before now and it was a luxuriously fragrant brew of calming sweetness. A well-earned feeling on a cold, damn, and frigid night such as this. Even though she sensed Connor disliked tea, she hoped that if she added a bit of sugar to it would be more tempting. Most men adored sugary tea, and so by all logic it should be easier to persuade him to drink it if it was procured with sweetness. Of course, if that didn't work she could simply make him drink it by giving him 'the look', but she hoped she wouldn't have to. It was nicer to watch someone do something on their own instead of being forced. Somehow it made it more enjoyable and experience for both parties.  
When the stew was done she loaded two bowls with a decent helping, slicing two hardy pieces of the bread; each coated with a nice smear of butter, and she poured two cups of sweetened Jasmine tea. The air was blossoming with comforting smells as she walked the tray holding the small feast to the table and set it down. A sigh of pride escaping her lips as she smiled sweetly before sitting down opposite from where Connor stood. She nodded for him to sit and he did so as his eyes focused on the meal laid before him. She could tell he was slightly impressed and for that she was glad. No doubt it was about time he'd come upon some well-earned comforts and she was happy to provide it, even if it wasn't all that much.  
Elena folded her hands gracefully and looked at Connor who looked back, his brow furrowed slightly, and she laughed softly.  
"I know y'probably don't believe in it but y'are in m'house and here I pray to the Lord above to thank 'im for the bounty he's provided before us. It ain't much but still, it's worth thankin' him for." She explained calmly but Connor still didn't seem to get it, that or he was pretending he didn't. Either way, Elena wasn't going to waste too much time on the matter.  
"If anythin' just humor me and fold your 'ands?" She asked politely and she watched as Connor duplicated her actions and folded his hands neatly before watching her in silence.  
Satisfied, Elena began her prayer- "Lord, thank you for providin' me with all that I own. Thank you for this wonderful bountiful meal laid before us, and for bringin' me such a wonderful guest. Please, bless this meal we're about to eat and bless us both as well. May your loving gaze be always upon us and may each day always remind us of your blessings.  
Amen."  
With that Elena unfolded her hands and made the sign of the cross before looking to Connor who seemed utterly fascinated with her. She looked back at him with confusion for a moment before finally realizing he must have been fascinated by her prayer.  
"I take it a lot o'the men y'board with don't do much prayin'?" She asked as she dipped her spoon into the steaming stew, taking it out to reveal a chunk of potato on board.  
"They do, just not as well or out loud. Of course, when it comes to eating out on the battle field, praying for thanks of any kind isn't usually a first priority." Connor spoke truthfully as he took a spoonful of soup into his mouth. It was simple but it held taste to it, and again he was thankful to eat another meal that wasn't watered down, tasteless, and smelled awful.  
"There's always time t'give thanks, Connor. No matter who y'pray to, there's always time. Don't become one o'those men who only finds his faith when he's dyin'."  
Elena didn't want to preach as both politics and religion seemed to be ill tempered topics these days, but she just wanted to give him a bit of advice. Even if he didn't pray to the same God she did, he still had some form of faith in the Creator of his people. Otherwise he wouldn't be fighting on the losing side of the war thus far.  
"So, I suspect the storm'll let up sometime in the night. Y'welcome to stay 'til dawn just t'be sure. No sense in rushin' out to die." Elena said, changing the subject as soon as the air grew eerily silent despite the rustling winds rattling the cabin. Connor didn't reply but nodded slowly in reply and for a long while as they ate they sat in silence. It wasn't quite the celebratory dinner she'd hoped for and in part Elena was disappointed. Of course, what did she actually expect, Connor wasn't exactly the talkative type, in fact it seemed even more obvious that he didn't even want to be there. He was only there because the storm wouldn't let him leave.  
Despite her confidence the thought of the truth made Elena's heart sink as she fiddled with the spoon in her half eaten bowl of soup.


	10. Chapter 10

Connor took notice of this soon after and although he was still hungry he stopped eating and sat back against the chair to watch her.  
"Are you alright, M'lady?" he asked, his head tilted in honest concern. Elena had seemed so upbeat only moments before and now there she sat her face somber, eyes glazed over with tears, playing with the food she'd spent so much time on instead of eating it.  
For a moment Connor felt guilty, and he didn't know why. To see such a drastic change in mood was strange which made him conclude it as his fault, for some reason, even if it wasn't.  
"The soup is very good." He tried to lift her spirits with a compliment which in reality was honesty; the soup was very good, but all that came in reply was a small smile and a little nod of thanks before her eyes averted back down and the frown reappeared on her lips.  
It was then that Connor was reminded as to why he didn't have a girlfriend. Not because he hated women, or thought them weak or stupid, but it was because he could not understand them. They were as happy as a puppy with a ball one minute and the next they were as ornery as a bobcat caught by its tail. They would be smiles and laughter for a time and then as somber and sad as an old beggar the next. Their moods were astonishingly swift, unlike men who always seemed to be one of two moods- cranky or 'excitable', neither one of them were pleasant to be around, he imagined even more so for a woman, but still, men were simpler like that. No frills, no shifting between moods faster than a gunshot, and even more so they were nowhere near as hard to figure out as a woman. It was pretty easy to understand how a man felt the moment he spoke, but a woman, she could speak in such a sweet tone and be as mad as a rattlesnake with its head caught in a bottle.  
Connor would tread carefully from here on out, he didn't want to blatantly offend a woman in her own home, especially after she'd given him such a good meal and generosity.  
"What is wrong, M'lady? Is it something I've said? I didn't mean to offend you, and if I did, I am sorry."  
He chose his words carefully, just as if he were speaking to a cornered deer. One wrong pitch, one wrong move and a frightened deer could be deadlier in a face off than a rushing bear.  
Perhaps it wasn't best to compare a woman to an animal. Even in his mind it still felt slightly insulting. Either way, he awaited an answer to his apology.  
Surprisingly enough his apology was answered rather quickly, but not in the manner in which he expected, not by a long shot.  
"O'course I'm ok! Why wouldn't I be?"  
Elena's voice was elevated on an almost shouting volume which made Connor shift back slightly in his seat. He hadn't expected her to gain such a tone with him, especially after such an innocent question.  
Little did he know it was all a ruse, a mask to hide how bad she actually felt. She'd been foolish enough to pretend in her mind that this man was there because of her company. The more she thought about it the more it became apparent that the prospect of such an idea was more and more 'inappropriate' or 'wrong'. Having a man in your home, and as it were unmarried was a social 'no-no' and it meant one of two things- you were related or you were a 'whore'. Some of the more respectable women had been labeled such things by their 'friends' because of how often the postman arrived at their home and how often they invited him in for 'tea'. Regardless of how innocent the reason actually was, having a man in your house; inviting a man into your house was a one way ticket to the gossip express. It was then in that moment that Elena was glad she'd chosen to live so far away from town. At least there was a chance no one would see the two of them sitting together in her home.  
What made matters worse was the fact that this man was no only a Colonial, or it seemed, but he was also a native man. Surely any sighting of the two of them together would rouse some kind of 'talk'. Still, Elena was never actually the kind of girl to be detoured or insulted by what other people said about her, and she knew Connor wasn't the kind of person to feel such things either. Regardless of how possible it was that they'd become a topic with some local hen-house discussions at the local sewing meet, neither one of them cared. At least not at this moment.  
Connor leaned back in his seat and placed his spoon back onto the table gently so it made little noise. He then rose up from his seat and walked over toward the corner of the room where his robes and items sat neatly folded and placed.  
"I have stayed too long, I must go."  
It was all he could think of to say, but it was the truth. He had stayed much too long and although the company was truthfully the best he'd had in months, Connor knew he would only cause more and more trouble the longer he stayed in Lady Elena's cabin.  
"But the storm-?" Elena said as she stood up, fixing her cool green eyes on Connor's back as he replaced his robes and gear on his body.  
"I will manage through it. I cannot linger here; they will be looking for me."  
Connor's tone was flat and strict, as per usual these days. He no longer held too much concern for sounding polite as soon as he was back into his element. As comforting as it was to feel welcome in a warm and cozy place such as Lady Elena's cabin, he had a job; obligations to uphold and stay true to.  
Elena remained silent as she watched Connor redress in his coat and robes. Her heart sank slowly knowing it was very possible she'd not see him again for a very long time, if she ever got to see him again. But she understood, deep down inside her heart and mind she understood. There was no knowing how or why she understood why he had to leave, but it didn't matter. All that did matter was that she was able to let him go without feeling too miserable about it.  
Still, watching him walk away once more would be hard, she had so much to say to him, so many questions to ask about the war, his life, about 'them'. Again, her heart sank another few inches as she was reminded of how distant 'they' really were, and how little hope there was of any future between them.  
He was not prospecting for a woman and she was certainly not his type. Sure, she was strong, tough as brass and well off, but he had his life to live and it was obvious it did not include her in it. At least not permanently, and it was then that Elena made a secret pact; a silent promise to herself and to him- if he would ever need her for whatever reason she would be there for him. She would be the friend he'd need. She came to the conclusion that there was no way she could tie him down, and truthfully she didn't want to. He was a soldier, a lone wolf, and although he needed just as much care and compassion as anyone else, he was not the type to be burdened by those needs. So, if he did not want it she would not give it to him, but when he did, she would be there to give it to him tenfold.  
Turning around quickly, Elena walked over to the kitchen and pulled out the tin of cookies. Opening a small kerchief that was once used to wipe the dishes dry, she placed a few of them into it before tying it shut in a neat satchel. She then grabbed another larger satchel and placed the small parcel inside of it. Then she reached into the cabinet and put the other half of the bread in as well as a few more assorted items before clasping it shut. She then handed it to Connor before stepping back to clean up the table.  
"Take it. It'll be just enough to keep you movin' I suspect." she spoke as she cleaned, keeping her eyes averted to what she was doing, but out of the corner of them she could see him standing there with the satchel in his hand looking slightly concerned.  
"But this is yours, I cannot accept it. I will not take what little you have." He voice was monotone but sincere, and Elena couldn't help but grin as she turned away and placed the two bowls, still full of stew onto the counter top.  
"I'm poor but I am not destitute, Connor. I'll manage without bread an' biscuits for a few days. Take 'em, it's not much but don't play off my charities as necessity, I'm only doin' it to keep y'alive. It's a blizzard out there and you'll need somthin' t'keep y'goin'."  
Elena explained in a quick sharp tone before turning about face and giving him the look her father used to give her- the look of 'please don't make me explain again'.  
Connor nodded quickly before looping the satchel over his chest. He would accept her charity, not only because he knew it would be a good idea to have something to sustain him on his journey, but also because it was the first time in a long time anyone had given him something without being ordered to.  
"Thank you, M'lady." Connor said with a small bow of his head before he turned around and walked toward the door. Putting his hand on the handle, he hesitated for a moment taking in the warmth of the air inside and the smells of comfort before he gingerly turned the knob to open the door. The moment he opened the door a frigid icy wind whipped in and small snowflakes wafted through the opening as he opened the door a bit more. The scent of open air and even the cold were a welcome piece of 'home' and Connor's senses came alive once more.  
He debated turning around for a moment to say 'goodbye' to Lady Elena and to thank her for her kindness, but he knew she already knew what he was thinking. At least he hoped she did.  
Stepping out onto the porch, Connor took in a deep breath to soak in the scents on the wind. His eyes looked sharply out through the whirling white clouds and swaying dunes of snow looking for any sign of enemies or animals. He then made his way down the stairs which were covered in a thick but fluffy layer of snowfall. The snow reached up to his thighs in some places as he walked but he made it through with some persistence.  
He turned around the house and made his way toward the backyard. He had to find the soldier's body to drag it further away from Lady Elena's house, but to his dismay every sign of the soldier's whereabouts had disappeared under nearly four feet of fresh snow. He would have to try to remember exactly where he'd put the body but the shifting surroundings and tall white snow drifts always waving as they moved were very disorientating for any tracker, so finding anything was a chore and a half. Still, Connor would have to try as he couldn't just leave the body in the middle of the Lady's lawn.  
Walking on through the snow Connor cursed aloud as his foot dove into a dip in the lawn and the snow rushed up to his stomach. Now wading through the icy snow he kept on walking until his foot brushed against something stiff beneath the snow. Whether or not it was the stump of a fallen tree, a rock, or a body, Connor would investigate. Searching for anything blindly meant if you felt something in your path, you'd investigate it further no matter what.  
Crouching down as best he could, Connor pulled a pair of sewn leather mittens and put them over his hands. Normally unaffected by the cold, the tough thick skin of his hands would still freeze and be useless if he dug through icy snow, so wearing the mittens, as stupid looking as they were, meant he could dig without having to stop and warm up his fingers every few seconds.  
Scooping handfuls of fluffy white snow out of the way Connor dug deeper and deeper and was surprised to see a flash of red fabric after digging for only a few moments. He dug a bit faster and was relieved when he saw a hand begin to show for his efforts. He'd found the soldier but as suspected the body was frozen as solid as a dead fish, and as such it would be extra heavy and cumbersome to move. However, he'd have to do it. He leaned back and peered around to see a patch of woodland just a mile or so from where he was. He looked the other direction to see the cabin. Lady Elena's cabin with smoke rising from the little chimney, the windows glowing a soft pale yellow from within, and the figure of Ellie herself; watching him with a blank expression. Connor did not wave or acknowledge her any more than a nod before he reached down and began to pull at the frozen hand to rouse the dead soldier from his icy grave. A moment later the body popped out like a sickening prize from the snow and Connor lobed the body over his back, holding the hand over his shoulder to drag it the whole journey to the woodland just beyond. With every fluid within the body frozen solid, the body felt like a bag of stones and it acted like one as well; stiff as a board and twice as pointy. This was not the best part of his job, but it had to be done. Not harming the innocent meant more than not killing them, it meant trying to avoid getting them into trouble; involving them in matters they need not be involved in- especially if it would be avoided or prevented.  
Killing the British soldier was necessary but so was disposing of the body, it had to be done to uphold 'the code' in some backwards kind of way. Not to mention Connor had no intention of inviting bears, wolves, and all other assorted predators onto Lady Elena's lawn with the sight of a meal.


	11. Chapter 11

My apologies for taking so long to update with this story. For a while I hit and art blockage which made it hard to find where to do with this tale. Still, I hope these coming chapters will prove entertaining enough to keep readers interested. Again, please accpet my humble apologies for the lack of editing. I tend to write just for fun mostly so I don't do much editing, heh.  
Thank you for reading!

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Turning around he made his way onward in the opposite direction of Lady Elena's cottage. A gentle but still frigid snow began to fall, the tiny flakes now covering both Connor and the stiff as a board Redcoat slung over his shoulder. He didn't look back until he was well beyond sight of the cabin but as he turned he could see the familiar flash of vivid flaming gold; Elena's hair, she was still standing watching him even if she couldn't see him any longer. Turning back Connor found his mind wondering what life would have been like had he chosen to stay instead of leave Lady Elena's company? The comforts of friendship were something he hadn't felt in quite some time as any men who were 'friends' could or would very well turn on him for the right price. Then again they knew who he was, what he was, and they knew of his enemies. Many men of war would betray or extort their fellow men if need be, for money power or even the promise of immunity from disputes other men were dragged into.  
The man over his shoulders began to grow heavier and heavier as the heat from Connor's body began to slowly thaw the frozen carcass just enough to droop a bit more. Upon that realization Connor decided he'd carried the man long enough and with a heaving shove he pushed the body off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Wisps of freshly fallen snow puffed in the air as the weighted body hit into it, so much so that by the time it all settled bad half the body was against buried beneath the fresh flakes.  
Standing for a moment to catch his breath, letting the fresh air sink into his lungs even though it was cold, Connor looked around for any sign of direction. He could read paths well and track easily but in a fresh snowfall like this even those with higher senses had trouble finding a definite course. The day was still young enough that if Connor pressed on he could perhaps make it a few miles before twilight hour but a cold wind blew through and reassured him that although temporarily in relapse the storm had not yet died out and there was an obvious threat of another heavy downfall of snow. For a moment Connor cursed to himself for leaving the cottage too soon but he reminded himself as to why he had. He had no business being there and he knew it. The Lady may have been a kind and strong woman but she was still just an innocent bystander and if he got her into trouble, or worse hurt, by being in her home when an invading force crossed through he'd never forgive himself.  
The sound of a gunshot caught his attention and within minutes Connor was in pursuit of the culprit or culprits. The snow made movement difficult and slow but he pushed on with all his senses honed on the lingering echo and signs of gunfire. He came to an overhang and he heard voices speaking. Dropping low and moving with careful caution he stepped gingerly to the lip of the overhang and peered down through an opening in the brush. A small glimmer of red piqued his interest but upon further investigation he noticed there was more blue to the outfit than red and he let out a small sigh of relief. Despite having no reserve for killing enemies Connor knew in this position making a kill without being noticed would be incredibly difficult. Even if it were Regulars he'd of more than likely passed them by and continued on ignoring them in hopes they'd ignore him or not notice him.  
However, seeing that these were Colonial soldiers gave him some small shred of hope that he'd be able to make commune with someone from his own camp. The chance was slim and Connor knew that if they didn't know of him these men could very well turn against him in fear or ignorance so his approach would have to be cautious; he had no intention of spilling blood right now, particularly not allied blood.  
Stepping back away from the overhang he charted a course through the snow taking care in his footing. The snow made everything look even or level but underneath the ground could give way or even worse not even exist so treading through rocky areas like this was risky. When he finally hit the thinner snow Connor noticed a footpath carved through the fresh snow. It hadn't been used in a day or two but it led directly into the camp he'd just spied. So, he made his way down the neatly carved path toward the camp switching his mannerisms and personality to be as humble and unthreatening as possible without appearing stupid or weak. Despite feeling unimposing Connor knew he was a largely build man, much larger and fit than any of the men in that camp, so he'd have to be careful about his body language. Any sign of a threat and these men would no doubt take it as an offer to defend themselves and despite ho skilled Connor was they had many guns and numbers on their side. If they chose to attack he might have a chance but it was slim. These men would not be like the tenderfoot Redcoats, they knew these lands better and were tougher to read, and for that very reason Connor had often been grateful they were his allies and not his enemies.  
As soon as he got closer he heard the men go silent and the wind wafted the scent of fear toward him. They knew he was there but thankfully they were willing to take a chance he was neutral party. They were wrong but otherwise they had no reason to fear him.  
"Who goes there? Show yourself or we'll fill you with lead!" The tone was harsh but secure and for a brief moment Connor felt a hint of fear, these men would shoot him if they had inkling to do it. Still, he trusted their training to ask first then shoot would win out as he stepped into view.  
He lifted his hands to show an obvious sign of submission and that he had no desire to fight even though he was armed and he took a moment to look around at the faces he saw now. These men were rough looking with leathery skin, thicker beards, and tattered uniforms. They'd seen the frontlines of this war no doubt and more than likely also developed a paranoia of strangers.  
"Do not be afraid my friends, I don't come to harm or with will favour. I am part of George Washington's army, he is a friend."  
Connor spoke in a smooth calm tone and even though it was partially a lie—Washington wasn't a 'friend' per-say—these men didn't know that. In fact the fact a 'savage' man knew of their General seemed to satisfy their curiosity and they stood down if only slightly.


	12. Chapter 12

My apologies for taking so long to update with this story. For a while I hit and art blockage which made it hard to find where to do with this tale. Still, I hope these coming chapters will prove entertaining enough to keep readers interested. Again, please accept my humble apologies for the lack of editing. I tend to write just for fun mostly so I don't do much editing, heh.  
Thank you for reading!

* * *

"Sorry about the warm welcome, we've been stuck out here for a few days and this storm is making us all on edge." A man spoke and Connor turned to look at him. He was a young man but his face was aged well beyond its years with a large scar over his left eye; no doubt the work of a bayonet's blade on the battle field. Still, despite how malicious the man looked his eyes were kind and he showed no intention of hostility now knowing that Connor was an ally and not a foe.  
"It is alright, times like these make trust a hard thing to use." Connor spoke humbly with a small nod, another obvious sign that he understood this man was in charge of this camp full of unraveled troops.  
"I've got some hot water brewing, come, it's not much but it will warm your bones."  
The young scarred man gave a wave of his hand which was reddened with cold but still intact. Connor gave a nod before nodding a farewell to the other men who nodded back before going about their business of keeping warm, servicing their rifles, or cooking whatever rations they had.  
The two men walked over to a makeshift tent—basically no more than a thick linen tarp over a four stave stall and the stepped under it to sit down in a pair of chairs in front of a fire pit. The icy wind whipped past but the fire offered up some comfort as it growled defiantly against the cold intrusion, the orange flames licking and battling the icy assault before calming once more as the wind passed.  
A small black kettle hung over the edge of the fire and from its spout steam wisped forth before the young soldier reached out and grabbed its handle with bare hands. No doubt the metal curve was blazing hot but with hands so cold it appeared any measure of heat was welcomed by freezing flesh, even if it burned.  
Connor watched as the man poured the hot water into two tin cups before lifting one and handing it to Connor who took it gratefully with a nod of thanks. The cup was nice and warm already and it felt wonderful in his hands which had frozen to the point of numbness now. The water was clear, no doubt merely melted snow rather than river water and Connor tilted the cup to his lips and took a sip. It was boiling hot so his sipped it gingerly before glancing over to see the other man taking a fairly large swig into his mouth with a wince.  
"Blazes that's hot but it feels good in the gut!" The man said after he swallowed before letting out a loud laugh and clearing his throat. Connor continued his careful and casual approach to drinking the molten water but noticed that it was cooling faster than he imagined so he sipped it a bit more eagerly before it chilled too much. When they were both done with their modest drink Connor handed the tin mug back to the man and said thank you and the man took it with a tip of his hat and put them both on a nearby trunk that doubled as a table.  
"Of course! It know it's not much but our rations are low and we don't even have tobacco leaves to make tea with, haha!" The man spoke and although Connor huffed a small laugh he hoped the man was joking about the tobacco tea for no doubt that would be one awful tasting brew. Tobacco was an interesting crop but it was mainly grown in the south. His people had come by it on the rare occasion but it was not a staple crop so it was basically ignored spare for use in rituals or as kindling for a fire.  
He soon learned as he associated more with townsfolk that some actually smoked or ingested the leaves as a means of entertainment, puffing pipes filled with the chopped up leaves and inhaling the smoke. The thought of it made Connor sick to his stomach as he was reminded how painful it was to suck in a breath of wood smoke; it burned the lungs and eyes. Why anyone would do such a thing voluntarily was borderline insane.  
"So what are you doing all the way out here, did you lose your regimen? Or were you visiting home?" the man asked casually and Connor's attention was returned from his own thoughts. He turned to the man but remained silent, unsure of how to answer.  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound accusatory, it's just your uniform, it kind of speaks volumes that you're obviously a native man. My apologies if that sounds impulsive, I mean no offense."  
The young man remedied his remarks but Connor hadn't been offended in the first place. Despite the racism and prejudices against his people he faced little of it now and therefore it didn't affect him as it once had.  
"I was pursuing a troupe of British soldiers when the storm blew in and I found a cabin to stay in with a friend." Connor answered truthfully, he had no reason to lie.  
The man let out a chuckle before shaking his head before placing a heavy hand on Connor's shoulder. The gesture was kind but it was not necessarily welcome and Connor shifted uncomfortably under the contact.  
"A 'friend' eh? Haha, shaking up with a lady friend no doubt, can't say I blame you. It's nights like this that even I miss my old lady back home, for as horrible as she can be."  
Connor's demeanor shifted as soon as he heard this accusation and he leaned back as the air of friendly took an air of unease. It wasn't the fact this man burst out with such an accusation as much as it was the tone in which he said it, as if the act of random sexual encounters were welcomed for whatever reason.  
"I said friend, not wife." Connor corrected his tone bitter but gentle. He had to remind himself he was still in the presence of someone who could technically outrank him and even better, have him killed with a single order so he had to be careful in his pitch.  
"Oh aye, I'm sorry friend, I meant no offense it's just men tend to shack up with lady friends in times like these. Then again, perhaps you're not as a regular man?" The young soldier spoke and it became obvious to Connor that this man had little regard for editing his words as he spoke them, his ignorance and arrogance were digging him a deeper hole than it should have and Connor wished he'd silence himself.  
"What are you doing out here?" Finally he changed the subject and with that the conversation of sexual encounters turned to something more serious, something Connor didn't mind talking about.  
"We were stationed here before this blasted storm as an outpost for incoming troupes from the north. However, after this mess blew in we were stuck here to wait it out in the open. As you can see we made do with what we had at our disposal. Still, we were meant to report back to base camp two days ago but this silly weather front seems stalled and my men are anxious about traveling in white out conditions. I honestly can't say I blame them."  
Connor couldn't say he blamed the men either for being apprehensive about traveling through a blizzard like this. Harsh weather was bad enough but harsh and unpredictable weather was worse and it was times like these when it was best to wait until the sun came out and skies clear before traveling, which was what Connor should have done, but he didn't and now here it was stuck out in the wood in threatening weather like these men.  
"Which way is the base camp?" Connor asked sincerely and the young soldier let out a huff before scratching his reddened nose.  
"What are you planning to try and make it there in this weather? I heard the natives were hardy people but I'd stretch to say you'd be mad if you did."  
Connor was unamused by this remark and it showed as he flattened his brow. The man saw this and cleared his throat before lifting a finger to point to the east and Connor followed the pointed path with his eyes before looking to the man with a nod before rising.  
"Thank you for the drink and for your help, but I must go. I must make it back to tell my men what progress was made." Standing tall but humble Connor nodded a thanks before he turned and made his way eastward across the camp, but he heard footsteps behind him and then felt a presence beside him.  
"With all due respect my friend, I'd advise you to stay here until this front passes. It's no sense risking life and death and you're of no use to our cause dead."  
The plea was sincere but Connor's mind was made up and he continued walking as he spoke; "If I can make through these woods by nightfall I will be fine. I know these lands and this isn't the first time I have traveled in weather like this. Thank you for your concern but I must leave."  
Without another word Connor took to leave the camp, thankfully the young solider didn't follow him.  
Passing the small group of worn out but hardy men Connor kept his gaze forward, careful not to make eye contact in favour of not being pulled into a conversation or worse, a conflict.  
By the time he made it a few meters beyond the camp the wind had picked up and whirling columns of snow danced around the trees like mystical beings. Connor's attention was held to keeping the icy wind from entering both his coat as well as his lungs. Her hated to admit if but so far his calculations about the weather and his ability to survive and navigate through it hadn't been the best example. Fortunately there was no on there to tell him such a thing other than himself. A chilling wind slapped past his face and he inhaled sharply at the sharp sensation as it assaulted the exposed skin of his cheek. If he was able to muster the last of his skills he could make it home by morning if he traveled throughout the night. Providentially for him the winds began to die down by dusk and the skies cleared just enough to let a full moon shine through the filtered clouds which made his journey just a bit easier, despite it being freezing cold and lonely.


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry if the next few chapters get a bit 'dry' or even a bit expansive. This isn't too crucial a part in the story but, haha, I had to add some filler to it.  
Thank you again for reading!

* * *

As the months passed it seemed any notion of a peaceful moment in life would fade away with the continuation of this ongoing war. Thankfully the majority of the fighting had remained just beyond Elena's cabin and property; however she could still hear the blasts and echoes of the battles only a few miles away. The reality that the threat of losing her home once again was merely a promise waiting Elena tried to occupy her mind most days with painting. Where years passed she would have painted majestic mountains and beautiful wooded glens now many of her works were of abstract imagery or portraits of people she'd met before.  
Walking past the blank canvas Elena stopped and stared for a moment at the untouched surface. She had intended this canvas be reserved for a special portrait; one of 'him' but it had been so long now since she had last seen him she was sure he'd somehow changed enough that if she painted him from memory it would not serve to do his features justice. Besides, she was out of paint.  
Pulling the woolen shawl over her shoulders before tying up the bonnet hood onto her head she took a glance around her humble home a moment before making her way to the door. She had an intention of going to the market today to stock up on supplies as well as see if she could find or order more paints.  
Thankfully her neighbor, Mr. Thatcher from down the road had a mind to travel to town and had offered her a ride on his buggy-carriage. It would be a dreadfully bumpy ride but it was far better than walking the over ten miles to town so Elena would suffer through the jostling.  
"G'mornin' Ms. St. James!" Mr. Thatcher's husky voice echoed through the air as the sound of heavy hooves hit the hardened dirt and Elena turned with a gracious nod and a greeting.  
"Oh, hello Mr. Thatcher! I wasn't expecting you so soon?" Elena took care to make it seem as if he was early when in fact he was very much later than she would have liked. Still, he had offered her the escort and therefore she had little room to complain, he was being courteous after all.  
Mr. Thatcher let out a loud wheezing chuckle before he slid further down on the coach's seat to allow Elena to sit, offering a hand to help her up.  
"The wife needs her items as soon as possible so she was ready to boot me out the door by dawn!"  
As Elena accepted his help and sat down on the crooked seat Mr. Thatcher let out another loud laugh before wiping his nose with a kerchief.  
Elena settled in noticing that every time she moved, even slightly, the seat would wriggle and creak so she took to staying as still as possible even though the movement didn't seem to bother Mr. Thatcher at all. A moment later they were off, the single black and white horse pulling the lightweight cart with relative ease; no doubt relieved it was empty for once. Mr. Thatcher was something of a mason meaning he worked with brick and stones building fences and boundaries for farms. This meant most of the time this little cart was full of large stones of even carved bricks which often weighed more than both Elena and Mr. Thatcher combined! With a small skip in his trot the stallion made easy headway down the dirt road kicking up a pile of dust and pebbles in the wake of the buggy cart as it rolled smoothly along.  
The trip didn't take as long as Elena thought it would and by only an hour's time they could see the spires of the local town church in the immediate distance and soon after the scents of the town greeted their nose; the smell of close living and activity. Elena tried not to cough at the heavy smell of manure and rubbish as they passed a dumping site on the outskirts of town. As they passed she swore she caught sight of a human body amid the litter as well as a few dogs, cats, a pig, and even a horse; all dead and rotting in a heap amid all other sorts of debris.  
Finally passing the horrible sight they entered into the town and the buggy slowed to a crawling pace much to the anxious and active stallion who tossed his big black head back and forth with a snorting grumble as he was forced to walk instead of trot now.  
As they reached the general store the buggy slowed to a stop and again the feisty stallion let out a grunt of annoyance as he was halted and then tied to stay put while Mr. Thatcher and Elena did what they needed in town. Mr. Thatcher set foot down on the grow which was slick with both rain water as well as other assorted fluids no one would care to know about, and as he walked around the buggy he gave the restless horse a good pat on the shoulder as well as a kindly rub on the nose and the gesture seemed to calm the stallion, if only a little. Making way over to her he extended a hand to Elena and she took it as she too stepped down from the buggy elegantly, holding the skirt of her traveling dress up just enough to prevent it from getting caught or touching the ground as she hopped down from her seat.  
"I'll be at the farmer's market if you need me otherwise we will be leaving by midday if it suits you?" Mr. Thatcher said as he gave Elena her hand back and she nodded back in reply.  
"Of course, I only need a few items, mostly food and some spare parts."  
"Very well Ms. St. James, I bid you adieu until after noon." Mr. Thatcher said in an almost singsong voice as he gave a small bow of his head before turning to make his way in the direction of the farmer's stalls and market.  
Elena charted her course for the general store's steps and soon stood at the bottom of them. Something in her mind told her to look and make sure she had brought enough money for what she needed and she opened her small sachet purse to look inside to see she had brought more than enough. When satisfied she went to take the first step onto the general store's steps but faltered just enough to begin to fall backward and she let out a small shriek of shock before she felt her head and body hit into something. For a moment she was dazed, it wasn't stone of dirt she'd fallen into, it was softer. Not much but just enough to ensure she wasn't about to be knocked asunder and she tried to straighten up to steady herself and she heard a voice before she turned to see a tall form standing behind her.  
"Mind yourself on the landing."  
She let her eyes soak in the sight for a few moments, taking in the garments as well as the expression the man wore as he stood before her for a few moments more as if the ensure she had no intention of falling over once again.  
"T-Thank you." Elena said, stuttering for a second as her mind went blank and she stood almost dumbfounded in the presence of this man. Had her mind been in a better state she would have kicked herself for acting like such a little girl but at this point the main reason for her stupor was the man's face. It was oddly familiar but foreign all the same, as if she'd met him before many times but never remembered a single moment with him.  
The man, satisfied with her stability now gave a nod before walking off followed by another man who seemed to be his guard or escort, Elena didn't care which one. She stood for another few moments before shaking her head to clear it and resuming her walk up the stairs and into the store.  
By the time she was finished buying and ordering the items she needed the sun was high in the sky and the day had turned from cool and breezy to damp and hot; typical Summer weather for this part of the world. Removing the shawl from her shoulders to allow the warm sun to kiss her pale skin while it lasted, she decided take a walk about town now that she'd acquired the items she needed. Mr. Thatcher hadn't returned and there didn't appear to be any of his own items in the buggy cart meaning he was most likely still lingering around the farmer stalls, perhaps trying to barter for a new cow, horse, sheep, or pig. Farmers found entertainment in the darnedest of things it seemed and Elena chuckled to herself as she imagined the balding Mr. Thatcher arguing with another man over a prized sow.  
Walking down the street Elena's attention was capture by the sound of children playing and she turned to see a gang of boys and girls running around a patch of green land in the middle of what appeared to be a school yard. She watched for a moment reminiscing times since passed when she was a little girl running through the fields laughing with joy at being so carefree; unburdened by the worries of adulthood and apathetic to the horrors of war and famine.  
It was then that her mind shifted to think of him, Connor Kenway or Ratonhnhaké:ton as his real name, and she was instantly remembering the times they'd chance encounters and the memories of running through fields and forest lands while laughing and careless of the dangers it entitled if caught. There was no worry in either of their young hearts for those few hours when they were able to play and romp as normal children, appearances unimportant and unattended to. When she was with him she was allowed to act as young girls shouldn't; catching frogs, chasing rabbits, climbing trees, and being loud and even a bit disorderly. She was allowed to let her hair flow freely and her hands and feet to get dirty as she'd run barefoot through sand, dirt, and mud unconcerned with him thinking ill of her for it. He didn't care and if he did he didn't care say it in favour of enjoying what little freedom there was at the time. They were friends if only for a short time every few months when the winds favoured their journey's paths cross and Ratonhnhaké:ton would take a chance on the St. James' land.


	14. Chapter 14

Sorry if the next few chapters get a bit 'dry' or even a bit expansive. This isn't too crucial a part in the story but, haha, I had to add some filler to it.  
Thank you again for reading!

Neither one of them dared tell anyone they knew of their encounters in fear of tattle tellers until one day Ratonhnhaké:ton brought one of his friends to meet Elena. The boy was a large boy, not necessarily fat but still rather large. He had a round face with suspicious eyes that looked Elena over with an untrusting gaze as if she held a pistol behind her back the whole time. The two boys would talk between one another in their own tongue and Elena would be left to wonder what was being said between them. She suspected a lot of it had to do with how bad Ratonhnhaké:ton's judgment was for meeting and playing with the a white skinned girl when he knew it was not allowed, but every time it seemed his friend made a pass at this idea Ratonhnhaké:ton would correct him with a stern gaze and then point to Elena before pointing to himself. It didn't make much sense but then again it didn't have to as much of anything they spoke of or said was impossible to understand.

A crashing rumble of thunder echoed and Elena's attention was shifted to the skies which had gone from blue and sunny to gray and gloomy in what seemed like minutes during her daydream and she felt the ache of rain in her hands. The storm front brewing didn't seem to dampen anyone else's spirits about town as they continued going about their business even as the lightning flashed and the thunder growled in the sky. A trickling rain began to fall and Elena took to a brisk trot to make her way to an overhanging roof across the way from where she'd been sitting in front of the school yard.  
As she walked quickly toward the overhang the rains picked up and she lifted her hand to shield her eyes as she walked before she finally made it to her destination. Luckily her dress was still fairly dry and her hair remained set in its elegant bun but she took to primping herself regardless. Normally she didn't much care about appearances but she was in public now and even if she didn't care to look fancy she didn't want to look unkempt either.  
"A brilliant time for a monsoon."  
A familiar voice echoed from a short distance away and Elena stopped rustling her dress's skirt to peer over and see the man from before standing just an arm's length away from her. He wasn't looking at her and instead his gaze was watching the street with his arms tucked neatly behind his back giving him a slightly haughty but no less dignified appearance.  
"Tis Summer 'round here, can't expect too much predictability." Elena replied in a short but sturdy tone as she went back to straightening and fixing anything that appeared even the slightest bit mussed even though everything appeared just fine; she just wanted to appear busy for some reason.  
As if encouraged to continue a conversation by her reply the man chuckled so quietly it was hard to tell if he was chocking or laughing and he turned to the man beside him with a small bow before he turned back to Elena who tried her best to ignore him.  
"I trust you finally found your sea legs then, hm?"  
She could tell he was referring to she she'd fallen into him only just a couple hours before now and Elena did her best to give him a courteous grin of amusement.  
"Lucky y'were there t'prevent me from crackin' m'skull open on the ground, aye?"  
Her thick accent came about in her moment of lost composure; the small humiliation at her expense didn't bode well with her despite it being innocent conversation material. After all, what else did they have in common to talk of other than that and this rain?  
"All in a day's work, right Charles?"  
The man again spoke his eyes forward but the man beside him acknowledged with a nod before saying "Of course, couldn't let a little woman like you fall to the ground, could we? It would be un-gentlemen-like."  
At this point the taunting was obvious and Elena sent a cross glare at the man for his remark but he didn't seem fazed and instead huffed with a devious grin before leaning back against the wall to watch the rain.

After a few moments the rain calmed down just enough to allow some filtered sunlight through the misty air giving the area a golden hue of afternoon sun.  
Elena took a moment to pretend she was taking a look down the avenue but every once and a while stealing a glance at the man who wasn't 'Charles'; something about his face captivated him and she didn't know what. He seemed so incredibly familiar it was ridiculous. She knew they'd never met before as she would have recognized him immediately, she had a way with faces, so the oddity of his familiar appearance was maddening.  
Finally as he turned to her and gave a small tip of his hat before walking off with his comrade the realization hit her; he looked a lot like Connor, or rather Connor looked a lot like him! The resemblance was uncanny and Elena couldn't help but chuckle to herself in thinking she may have just met and talked to Connor's father without even knowing it. She wished for a moment she could find and speak to Connor, tell him of this rather amusing incident but she knew there was little to no chance that would happen as it had been months since she'd last seen him.  
As she saw the sun begin to shimmer across the muddy street Elena peered out from under the overhang before reaching out a hand to inspect the air. It felt damp and wet but it was no longer bucketing down so she stepped out gingerly onto the sloshing mud surface before carefully walking down the road. The air had grown thick with moisture and hot, so much so that Elena's hair began to stick to her neck and she thanked heaven for the previous sense to tie it up.  
The hustle and bustle of the town had resumed after the brief downpour let up and soon the street was full of yelling, talking, and activity from dozens of people. She was unsure of where she was going but Elena felt a desire to find someplace where it was quiet so she could sit and enjoy some peace before leaving town. She also hoped that in her excursion she might find Mr. Thatcher who remained missing but it was assumed easily that he too had sought shelter from the rain if he even noticed it while haggling in the farmer's market.  
With her shoes completely soaked now and muddy from walking Elena secretly wished she could get out of them and walk barefoot through the wetted grass instead, but that was unladylike and would easily cause some kind of uproar, so she kept the sloppy shoes boots on and continued walking toward the edge of the town. When she'd finally made it to the edge of the busier part of the town she could hear the sound of auctioneers rambling off totals, prices, and sales and she turned to see a crowd of people gathered around what appeared to be a horse corral and Elena could see the bobbing head of a beautiful mahogany horse, no doubt as it pawed the ground nervously in the lively action and noise of the auction, perhaps even the auction to determine its own fate?  
Elena watched for a moment until the beautiful horse was led out of view and a new one was lead in, this one being a dun coloured one, a pure breed bloodline no doubt. It was then that Elena's attention was spent and she walked a bit further beyond the edge of the city until she saw a patch of woodland just beyond and she made way for it. There it would be quiet enough to relax for a bit before having to take that long bumpy ride back home with Mr. Thatcher.  
Stepping into the woodland Elena's feet itched to be set free from the tight confines of her dressing boots but she dared not risk going barefoot in mulched areas such as this, there could be poison oak, ivy, or worse bees' nests lurking just beneath the packed leaf matter on the ground. She walked on through the dense foliage was now sparkling in the sunlight as it shone through the trees' leaves giving the forest a mystical feel to it with glittering all around. The sound of a whispering wind as it swept through the leaves overhead made Elena stop, close her eyes, and breathe deep to take in the smell of the wet foliage. There were few smells that made her feel at home and this was one of them, the smell of wet grass and leaves after a Spring or Summer rain.  
Then another scent was carried on the wind as it shifted and Elena's brow flattened as she tried to recognize it, not an easy task as she had no training to knowledge on how to do it properly, not as a dog would but she could still recognize the smell. It was just a matter of putting it to a visual now, which was what seemed to be the hardest part. The smell, whatever it was, whatever it belonged to, or whoever it belonged to brought a sense of comfort and Elena found herself taking in large breaths to hold it before sighing with a smile.  
"It is dangerous to wander the woods alone m'lady."  
The voice was all too familiar and soon the sound of a body landing on packed earth triggered Elena to whirl around to meet who it was.  
There he stood his stature calm and kind as always that familiar blessing of humility in his dark eyes as he let an incredibly faint smile cross his lips as if in a greeting.  
It took her a moment to take in the moment as if convinced her mind was playing tricks on her before Elena smiled wide and let out a laugh. Before she could stop herself she reached out and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a tight hug.  
"You're safe, thank God!" She said with great zeal as she hugged him and she heard him chuckle, or at least he made a sound similar to it before he patted her back gently. He was never one to admire or accept gestures like this but she couldn't help it; she was so happy to see him alive and well.  
After another tight squeeze Elena let go and backed away before looking him over with a happy smile glued to her lips.  
He looked very well indeed! He'd put on some weight and he looked very grownup in the sense that his face no longer appeared to have so much innocence to it. He was a man now even more so than ever before. The only dampener to the moment was the realization that this war had tested him, put him through what could only be imagined as Hell and that he was scarred deeply from it thus far. It was a bittersweet meeting but Elena kept her mind positive none the less.  
"My goodness, how have you been Ratonhnhaké:ton?" Elena asked her mind still slightly astounded by how fate had favoured her today and she watched him take a step forward to address her as a friend would, his hands together in a sign of timidity.  
"This war lingers too long for my taste but it is my duty to fight in it whether I want to or not. I guess you could say I have seen better days and felt better before though I cannot remember when."  
His humour was dry Elena chuckled as she understood exactly what he meant.  
"And you, m'lady? I trust you have been well?" Connor asked with genuine interest and Elena nodded almost feeling guilty by how fortunate she was to not have the burden of this war on her shoulders like he did. In fact in that moment she wished she had the courage to hug him again and thank him for his bravery as well as invite him back to her home for a well cooked meal but she had a feeling he had important matters to attend to and that his appearance here now was not merely on her behalf.  
"I was just in town with Mr. Thatcher getting a few items and supplies. We were meant to leave by midday but seems Mr. Thatcher has gotten caught up in a gamble, an auction, or a bottle. In fact I mean t'go find him, care t'be my escort Ratonhnhaké:ton?"  
Elena's invite was rather cheeky but Connor took it regardless and as she offered her arm he shook his head but placed a hand on her shoulder with a small grin before pulling that familiar hood over his head to hide his face. So that was it, he was meant to go to 'work' in town then?  
Elena knew very little of what Connor officially did as employment but she assumed he was a tracker of some kind, perhaps he worked for the government or maybe a powerful man who sent him to find his clients and escort them?  
Whatever his occupation was his outfit was very specific as well as unique compared to that of the other men about town. Very few men wore hoods these days and even fewer wore the long flowing robe-like coat Connor's donned regularly. There was also the matter of the many native artifacts that adorned his outfit like feathers from an eagle, beans made of glass and stone weaved into intricate patterns, as well as the leather stitched with deer-gut twine. All in all his garments were not that of an ordinary man but very few people paid much attention spare for the occasional glance of confusion before muttering off on their own business. As they walked Elena led the way while Connor walked behind her as if trying to appear distant or unrelated but his sharp eyes were watching her as well as his surroundings easily so she was never out of his sight for a moment. Finally they made their way back to the auction corral and by now the crowd had dissipated as the pickings for horses and livestock got slim or unappealing. Right now a thin gangly nag of a horse stood on the planks, no doubt the poor wretched thing was destined to become sausage meat, and a few men offered up small sums for the beast as the others turned up their nose at the creature. Elena looked around as she and Connor walked through the auctioneer's square to see if she could catch sight of Mr. Thatcher but he was nowhere in sight which was disheartening to say the least.  
"Is he not here m'lady?" Connor asked behind her in a hushed tone and Elena shook her head with a flattened brow.  
"No, he's not. I guess the next best place t'look would be the livestock salary an' then the pub?"  
Elena's patience was wearing thin and despite the fact he'd been kind enough to bring her Mr. Thatcher's unreliability was slowly becoming an unnerving event.  
They checked the livestock yard and then the local pubs before Elena finally gave up and for a moment and the two of them stood outside a storefront while Elena tried to think of where ever else the man could be. Her mind was scattered for some odd reason and she was unable to think of where else he could have gone. The last place there was to look would be the local dock-yard but there was little chance of him being there seeing as he had no reason to be. Still, it would be work a shot to look in any case.


End file.
